Succubus
by DevinTowerwood
Summary: Frustrated with her failing relationships, seventeen-year-old Chloe Price settles on the most straightforward plan: summon a succubus to fill the emptiness in her life. While the ritual goes as planned, the plan itself quickly goes awry when she discovers she's summoned a newly-created succubus named Rachel. Follows Chloe's perspective in the years leading up to the events of LiS.
1. Love

The silence in the car only made Chloe more nervous. Ever since they'd left the school parking lot, there was no talking, no radio. She didn't want to break the silence, but the silence kept her from gauging what sort of shit she was in. Not only that, but she really, really hated not having the radio on. No radio meant a serious talk was happening, and serious talks, well, they tended to pertain to her.

She had no idea what this silence could mean, then. Probably an untold level of bad.

"So, um. Can we have the radio on?"

 _Oh, wonderful._ Only more silence.

She saw David adjust his hands on the steering wheel, letting the white-knuckled tension drain from them for a few seconds.

Finally, he spoke up, "You were suspended, Chloe. It's probably best that you don't talk."

Good. Perfect. Right to the point. Just not at all to the point she was trying to make. "Yeah, I get that, it's just a little awkward in the car if-"

"Chloe," her mom cut in, "not now, okay?"

Chloe let out an extremely loud exhale to show her disappointment, but conceded the argument before it began. She leaned against window pane, doing her best to keep her eyes away from the afternoon sun. After a few more seconds of the sensory deprivation, she raised her fingers up to the glass and began to tap a quiet rhythm, the riff of a song she couldn't get out of her head.

"Chloe."

"Yeah mom?"

"Stop that."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Chloe dropped her hand back down onto her lap, slipping her thumb into her jeans to keep it anchored there. Instead, she raised her other hand up just beneath her eyes, inspecting her nails with meticulous detail before picking one clip with her teeth.

This time, her mother said nothing, and she gave it up after a minute or two.

When they returned home, the reality of Chloe's situation had sunk in, and she started to think about how she was going to get through it. She had a pocket plan that sounded exciting, but she had to make sure all the unlikely avenues were unavailable.

As she and her mother stepped out of the passenger side, Chloe asked, "Hey mom? If I'm not going to school for the next three days or whatever, can I take the car tomorrow to go to the beach or downtown or something?"

Her mother's dark green eyes read flat, as if Chloe's words did not even register in her mind, until finally her face tilted into an incredulous expression. "You cannot be serious. Chloe, you graffiti'd your school. There's no way we're going to let you run rampant. Just spend a few days up there," she pointed to Chloe's room window above the garage, "and behave yourself. For once."

Her mother turned to head inside after David, but Chloe was hot on their heels.

"Come on! It was barely graffiti - the place is covered in way worse. Plus, it'll take them like, five seconds to clean up. I think they've got a guy on staff just to clean shit like that up every time that club has a party."

That seemed to stop David in his tracks, but her mom just continued on, pulling out her keys to open up the house.

David turned around to face Chloe, bringing his arms up to his chest like he did whenever he saw her around campus, or when he thought it was his solemn duty to parent her. "It is not Samuel's job to clean up after you _or_ those snobby kids. But it _is_ my job to make sure students feel safe, and stuff like that can come off as a threat, you get that, right?"

Chloe fixed a scowl on David. Oh, of course, a little graffiti really put his new head of security gig in a precarious state.

"What? Cars = death? If there's a threat there, it's rich drunk kids driving, not a little fucking paint."

The argument seemed to have stationed itself just outside the door, but Chloe's mom seemed frustrated at them for not coming in after her.

"Chloe, don't you talk to David that way. And both of you, come inside."

"I can handle this, Joyce," David snapped, turning to look over her. Seeing her distress, though, he let his face relax, although it absolutely refused to give up its stubble-shrouded frown. "Come on, Chloe. Inside."

Chloe closed the door a little harder than she anticipated as she expected, but it appeared that both David and her mom were going to do their best to ignore it. David just made his way upstairs, while her mom turned into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. That woman was constantly drinking this ice-cold water, and almost without deviation made it her first priority whenever she came home.

Chloe tailed her mother to the kitchen, leaning against the wall that kept it separate from the entrance hall. "So, what? I'm seriously just supposed to sit on my ass for three days because _I_ was the student unlucky enough to get caught?"

Joyce did not look impressed with her child's argument, but took a moment to drink water. She always took care to hold back when they fought, Chloe knew that, but these little pauses only left her more irritated.

She set down her cup and leaned against the kitchen counter before finally replying. "Chloe. You are going to sit here on your ass for three days because you vandalized. That's a crime. I can't believe we're not being fined as it is."

Chloe groaned, pitifully smacking her head against the wall, although there was so little momentum behind it that she barely felt it.

Her mother ignored this, and, adopting a gentler tone suggested, "Now, why don't you use this extra time to get caught up on your homework? I know you're struggling with math and - and what was the other one?"

Chloe shrugged, feigning ignorance. Her mother did not seem to buy it, so she replied, "History? I think. But, like, I'm getting 'A's on all my math tests, and History is basically a blow-off class so-"

That seemed to get her mom frustrated again. "Nothing is a blow-off class, Chloe. Not while we're paying for you to go to Blackwell. You know you've got to get your grades up or you can't attend there next year. It's awkward enough with David working there, asking for them to ignore your semester grades," she gestured towards the upstairs, but Chloe only rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, Mom," Chloe raised her hands up, both in surrender and to halt her mother's progress towards a heartfelt declaration of disappointment. "I'm on top of it, okay? Finals are in two weeks, and they always bump my grades. I'll get in next year."

Her mother's eyes met hers with warning.

"Seriously," Chloe promised.

David descended the stairs again, now dressed in his security uniform for Blackwell. "I'm on shift at five, so I'm going to grab lunch at the Two Whales," he announced.

Joyce pushed past Chloe to see David at the door. Chloe didn't turn to look at them, instead turning into the hallway down to the living room.

"See you tonight."

Chloe mimicked sticking a finger down her throat as she heard them kissing, but she figured neither of them could see.

"And you. Chloe," David called, his hand on the door handle.

Chloe pivoted at the end of the hallway, watching him expectantly.

"Don't you and those skater freshmen kids cause any more trouble around Blackwell. Open House is next week."

"'Kay," Chloe replied, shoulders hunched. These next few days were going to be boring with the way these two had her time worked out.  
 _Pocket plan's a go, I guess._

"What was that?" David asked, as if he hadn't clearly heard.

"Yessir," Chloe answered, looking down at the carpet somewhere near his shoes rather than at him.

And with that, he was out the door.

* * *

It was 10:00 am the following morning before Chloe decided to crawl out of her bed, although her alarm had woken her up more than an hour before. While she knew her suspension was awful for 1) her relationship with her parents, 2) her GPA, 3) her academic record, it did mean that she had the house to herself for a few hours every day, depending on David's work schedule. Today, this special day, he had a morning shift at 8:00 am, and now she had a blessed few hours to get things ready.

She would have loved to take care of all of this at night, but Joyce rarely worked the night shift, and it was simply too risky when one or both of her parental figures were in the house. So, down the list with limited time.

Breakfast? Too nervous to eat just yet, put off til later.  
Shower? Yes, awesome, showering is amazing.  
Check hair? Still 70% blonde, 30% Bad Boy Blue. Hopefully it'll dry out fast.  
Shove bed into the corner? Painfully heavy, but enough shoves will wedge it in there.  
Once the bed was out of the way, and Chloe had used up her first hour; she carefully rolled up her rug, tossed it in the corner, and inspected her handiwork.

Formed with a collection of black sharpies, a large circle had been drawn in the center of Chloe's room. The circle was filled with a spiraling, foreign text, and a series of neat geometric shapes and patterns were laid out throughout the spiral. It was all nonsense to her, on a practical level, even though she had been slowly learning what it all meant.

There inscribed on the hardwood floors of Chloe's bedroom was a summoning circle. The spell itself had taken almost no time to find, but the research it had taken to use it! The translation from Sumerian. The list of components, and tracking them each down. The decoding of the messages and symbolism within the circle. The careful inscription of each word, unknown but duplicated geometrically off her computer. Even the reviews had been a pain to sort through, as people may have made any number of mistakes and groaned as they summoned something they had not expected.

Chloe smiled happily down at her circle for a few seconds, so glad that the day had finally come. She stood from her crouch and turned to her closet.

If she was going to be summoning a demon, she wanted to look good for it.

What was appropriate to wear when meeting a succubus for the first time? None of the reviews she'd found online had mentioned anything about it. Maybe every demon had its own fashion sense, and so nobody really bothered trying to impress it on a first date? Plenty of people must just call clothes quits when summoning a creature like this, sure, but that wasn't Chloe's style. She was summoning a creature out of hell, right? So she should look intimidating. She figured that was probably a pretty common thing in hell.

She quickly skipped over any of her band shirts with satanic iconography on them. Anyone who had actually been to hell wouldn't be impressed with all the goats heads and pentagrams. Well, that was the only stuff that she had that was kind of scary. Maybe something kind of funny? You know, catch them off guard, break the ice right away?

Chloe grabbed her Treachery of Images t-shirt and pulled it on quickly. All of her pants were ripped jeans or just flat black, so she figured her choice wouldn't make that much of a difference. Then again, she liked wearing the ripped jeans when she went out, and she only had one pair that was still clean.

 _Black it is, then._

Awesome, time to bust out the ritual components, then. Chloe had originally planned to hide them all cleverly and individually throughout her room, but had quickly discovered several of them really smelled. Thus, they all ended up in the bottom of her dresser, wrapped up in old socks that were too far gone to really be harmed further.

Five black candles? _Check._  
Chalk for five wards? _Check._  
Sage and other herbs to be placed inside the wards? _Check._  
Measuring tape stolen from David's work space to make sure she got all of the ward and candle placements correct? _Check._  
Ash of a cremated person? _Disgusting, but check.  
_ Lube? Not exactly part of the ritual, but she hid it in the same place. _Check._

And down the list Chloe went until she was certain she had everything. It took her about another hour of preparation before everything was ready, but when she sat down in the center of the spiral and crossed her legs, she couldn't help but smile. The incantation she was to use, and all of her notes on phrasing and steps she had to take during the ritual lay on a single piece of paper in her lap.

Today was the day.

She took a deep breath, trying to let her expectations (and, well, fear) sink away. Here we go.

As she began reciting the incantation, she first took a piece of paper she had inscribed with a demonic symbol that had been recommended to her. Then she pricked her finger with a (sterile!) needle and let a drop of her blood soak into the paper. Great. Awesome. Everything was going awesome.

She pat around her pockets until she located her lighter, trying not to let the distraction ruin her concentration. She set the paper alight, just pinching the corner with her finger until the symbol was consumed in the fire.

Was this going to work? Or had she just been duped by dozens of random people online with very active imaginations?

She wasn't sure until the moment the flame suddenly went out, and all of her candles were extinguished in the same instant. Her whole room immediately darkened, as if a veil were placed over the window over her desk.

At first, she thought, despite that, that nothing had happened. The smoke of her candles curled upwards towards the ceiling, and for a few seconds, she was just glad that, after all of this, she didn't have a smoke detector in her room.

Then, she felt a push like someone's toes against her back.

"Hey."

Chloe jumped as well as she could in her position, but it really just resulted in her toppling over. She managed to catch herself without smashing her hands or body against any candles, but she was too afraid to leave the circle just yet, so she turned where she sat, and saw her.

She was seated on Chloe's bed with her legs crossed and her fingers laced together in her lap, slightly reclined as if she owned it. Her hair was long and dark brown, although it was second on list of details that Chloe's noticed, after the pair of horns that curled back from just behind her temples to the back of her skull. She looked like she was probably in her late twenties, but the clothes that she wore looked completely out of date - a vibrant Victorian dress with a corset that showed off her boobs way too much to actually be, well, Victorian. How odd the outfit actually looked was far too overwhelming for Chloe to register how frequently something almost exactly like that had come up in her fantasies. From where she sat, Chloe could see just the beginnings of a red and blue tattoo flowing up her calf, but the rest was hidden under her dress.

Chloe's voice shot up almost an octave. "Oh, hi! You must be the, uh . . ." She pointed at the horned girl for a second, then quickly recognized that she couldn't remember the name. What had she summoned again?

"Succubus." The demon's dark red lips curved into a smirk. "You must be the summoner."

There was a twitch under the dress, and for a second, Chloe thought she saw the ends of a pointed tail. She swallowed, giving her a second of pause to try and deal with what she was actually seeing.

She replied, "Yeah, that's me." Chloe realized that she was being rude, and scrambled to her feet. "I'm Chloe. Nice to meet you . . .?"  
As Chloe offered her hand forward, the succubus stared at it for a few seconds before reaching up and taking it. "Rachel," she replied as they shook.

Chloe's eyes went wide as they touched. This woman's skin was so soft. It might just be a demon thing, but she didn't think she had ever met someone so well moisturized. Her nails were clean and short, a lot like Chloe's but neatly rounded.

 _Oh, awesome. I was worried they'd be long._

What was the next step? Chloe remembered how to break the binding and send the succubus back in the event that something went wrong, but she forgot if there was any additional thing she was supposed to do now.

She went with her gut. "So, Rachel."

She looked at her expectantly, blinking slowly. She had the most vibrant blue eyes Chloe thought she had ever seen - they were magnetizing.

"How are you?" She asked, far too casually.

There was no immediate response. Instead, Rachel only returned her a blank stare, and then her subtle smirk instead broke out into a wide smile. She brought the back of her hand up to her mouth as she startled chuckling, leaving Chloe's face suddenly hot with embarrassment.

God, she was totally embarrassing herself in front of this hot demon lady. How many people had tried to wear geeky shirts like this to try and impress someone who was probably immortal and knew like, all of art history? At least most of them had probably practiced what they were going to say.

"That . . . that was not what I was expecting, I'm sorry," Rachel apologized in a tone that was so sickly sweet that it was almost condescending. Condescending but hot. Holy shit demons had low voices. No wonder people invested the time in figuring out these summoning things.

"Yeah, no, I'm sorry, I'm kind of new to this summoning thing." Chloe scratched the back of her head. God, she probably looked like such a dumb kid right now. Only partially-dyed hair? What sort of cool, sexually experienced badass punk only dyes the ends of their hair?

"I just wanted to . . ." Chloe trailed off, struggling to actually complete the thought. Not that she didn't know what she wanted to do, exactly, but because she was so embarrassed of actually telling a stranger what her intention was. She was bold, sure, especially when it came to weak-ass teenage boys, but here was an older woman she spent months conjuring. She wasn't that bold.

Chloe sat down next to Rachel on the corner of the bed, letting her legs hang off the edge near the perimeter of the ritual circle. It made it a little less awkward for her not to make eye contact, so she hoped she could finish the thought.

Rachel reached over and placed her hand on Chloe's thigh, immediately setting off all sorts of alarm bells in Chloe's mind.

She finished Chloe's sentence for her, "You wanted someone to love you." She said it so smoothly, that at first Chloe didn't detect what was wrong with the sentence.

"Yeah," Chloe replied. And then, she realized what she'd actually heard, and turned to look at Rachel with a grimace on her face. "Wait, no? I was thinking more of like, a fucking thing. I'm not, like, some lonely mouth breather who hits up cam girls to ask them about their day."

Rachel quirked one of her (incredibly fucking perfect, what the fuck) eyebrows, and the smirk was back on her lips. "Oh?" She asked, saturated with fake innocence. "More like this?"

Rachel raised her hand up off of Chloe's thigh and flattened it against Chloe's sternum, suddenly forcing her to lie flat on her back. She went to straddle Chloe as well, but Chloe caught her leg and kept it from falling down on the other side

"Now, hold on a sec," she demanded, but didn't sit back up. Instead, she just lay on her back with a sort of white noise blocking out all thought. She was like thirty seconds from fucking a demon, but she was still really annoyed about that 'someone to love you comment'. The intense contradicting feelings totally froze her for a few seconds.

Also, she wanted the blood to drain from her face, but she was kinda turned on immediately as soon as Rachel pushed her down and it didn't seem to be immediately shutting off.

"Something wrong?" Rachel asked, her face suddenly appearing in full view over Chloe's. Her hair was so long it nearly touched Chloe's cheeks, and although Chloe couldn't exactly pinpoint what the smell was, it was really, really good.

Chloe's faced pinched uncomfortably. "What did you mean with that whole 'you want somebody to love you' bit? Was that like, sexy succubus talk or like, did you mean it literally?"

The succubus seemed a little taken aback, and withdrew a little bit. Chloe could barely see her in her peripherals.

"I just thought you seemed lonely."

Now that was exactly what Chloe didn't want to hear. She pushed herself back upright, face twisting more pissed off and voice raising with every second. "You don't even know me. I just conjured you, what the fuck would you even-"

Rachel began to shrink away from Chloe as her voice raised, until she drew up her legs and sat against the wall. Chloe completely cut off, however, as the girl she was seeing suddenly became an entirely different person. It was like a filter was just placed over her entire vision, brightening her room back up to its normal lighting and replacing the succubus.

Except . . . the girl didn't look much like a succubus anymore. Her horns were gone, for one thing. Her hair was significantly shorter, just past her shoulders, and thin, golden blonde. She was still wearing the Victorian-esque dress and corset, but it fit her much more poorly, as her body was much straighter and thinner than it had been a second ago. Most of all, though, the succubus definitely didn't look like she was in her late twenties - at most, she looked like she might be sixteen or seventeen, very close to Chloe's age.

Chloe's eyes bulged at the sudden changed, but her words quickly changed tracks, "Oh my god, are you all right?"

Rachel just then seemed to realize what had happened to her as she raised her hand and stared at it. "Oh, shit," she cursed, and her voice was no longer low and rich, but a little high and weak.

Chloe pulled her legs up onto the bed too and scooted a little closer. "Uhh, what just happened to you?" She pointed up at her own face, drawing such large circles around it that it sort of indicated 'everywhere' instead of anywhere specific.

Rachel lowered her head into her hands, looking so embarrassed that Chloe immediately felt ashamed for yelling at her. Or putting her on the spot. Whatever made her so distressed.

"I fucked up my transfiguration."

Chloe wasn't sure how to reply to that.

Luckily, after a few seconds, Rachel continued. "I mean, I've been practicing, but this is my first time out and I just. I guess I wasn't ready."

Now, there was something in that that Chloe understood. It just really surprised her. "Wait, what? This is your first time out? Like, the first time anyone's summoned you?"

Rachel nodded, and Chloe lowered her head in shame, running her fingers through her hair.

"Shit, sorry dude. I had no idea. I kind of fucked this up, huh?"

Rachel shook her head, but finally lowered her hands and looked at Chloe. Her eyes were hazel, dark and clear under all her golden hair. Although not at all what Chloe expected from a succubus, and really not what she had been . . . aiming for, she could not for a second deny how pretty this girl was. But 'small cute girl' had really not been what she meant to conjure.

"No, no, it's not you. I picked up on your feelings and tried to feed them back to you smoothly. It just . . . I don't know, I'm not really good at that yet."

Chloe's head tilted in confusion. "You picked up on my feelings?"

Rachel nodded.

"Like . . . like you're empathic? Like spirit science sort of stuff?"

"Yeah, I think so."

 _Huh._ Nobody had mentioned that online. Cool trick.

Chloe crawled over her bed to sit against the back wall, so that Rachel didn't have to look directly at her or vise versa. At this point, she didn't really imagine that things were going to go as she planned, so maybe this was just a different kind of opportunity.

"So, Rachel. It's Rachel, right?"

She nodded in response, sitting up a little straighter and tucking her hair behind her ear. For a demon or whatever, she sure seemed shy.

What was the first question that came to mind? "I guess this means hell is real, right?"

Rachel nodded again, but this time actually had something to say. "Yeah, I mean, I guess."

After a blank look from Chloe, she added, "I didn't really go outside much. Or at all."

Chloe only mustered an "Um," in response.

Recognizing her confusion, Rachel said, "I was just created three days ago. The first week or so is supposed to be job training, so I've just been hanging around the office."

 _What?_

"Wait, so, like, you're employed as a succubus? And you're three days old?"

Rachel shrugged, "As far as I can tell, it's a job you're born into, but yeah. I woke up like this," she opened up her arms, pointing at herself.

 _Mind. Blown._

"Well, holy shit, okay. That's a lot less Inferno than I imagined." Chloe's head tilted to the side again, although now it provided the extra function of scratching her head for her using the wall. "And where did you get the dress? Is that like, how people dress in hell?"

Rachel blushed quickly, and tried to tuck her hair back again, but ended up just running her fingers over her ear where the hair normally was. "Oh, no, I got it out of a closet at work. Or, like, the closet. It's practically endless and we all use it." She paused for a second, eyes pointed up towards the ceiling in thought. "It might actually be endless, come to think of it."

"That's sick," Chloe replied earnestly, and they both cracked a smile, finally. "But like, why did you choose it?"

Rachel seemed confused at the question, in much the same way that a math teacher would look at her when she recited steps to an equation that she had totally made up. But then, realization dawned on her face, and she answered, "Oh! One of the symbols in the ritual circle lets people see your desires and stuff. That's why I came in with the horns and the tail and the corset and stuff, 'cause you would think about it a lot near the circle."

"Oh." Now it was Chloe's turn to be left beet red, and she wasn't sure how to recover from that one. Most of the ritual circle had been drawn for weeks. If, in that time, there was an office building full of demons who could read her thoughts or watch her fantasies or whatever, then there was no end to the embarrassing stuff they might know about her. If she had known demons didn't have horns, she wouldn't have bothered to envision them like that so much . . . probably.

Rachel scooted over a little and dropped a hand on Chloe's knee. "Hey, now, don't worry about it! I thought she was really pretty, the succubus you had in mind. Plus, it's way less weird than a lot of the stuff conjurers come up with, trust me."

Chloe was a little pouty, but she asked, "Really?"

"Mmhmm," Rachel hummed in reassurance.

Chloe kept an eye on Rachel's hand, but it didn't seem to be moving. She was pretty unsure of what she hoped Rachel would do with it in the first place, but it was still pretty comforting.

"Y'know," Chloe started, her voice a bit quieter and more gravelly than before, "I'm really glad I summoned you. If I'd gotten like, an expert succubus, I'd probably be freaking out right now."

Chloe had not been expecting the ungracious snort she got in response, as Rachel held back something particularly funny. Shaking her head, she said, "Oh, god, no. If you'd summoned the other succubi I know, you wouldn't be having this conversation, you'd be like, somewhere in the middle of your seventh orgasm. They're fucking amazing and like, super sexy. It's really intimidating, actually . . ."

Chloe restrained a grin as Rachel's look turned crestfallen. While she couldn't really imagine what an office full of sexy demons was like (not that she hadn't tried, or wasn't trying in this very instant), being _intimidated_ was the last thing that came to mind.

Chloe's hand descended over Rachel's, and she wrapped her fingers around them. She had, even without the transfiguration, incredibly soft hands, and they were so, so warm. Rachel looked back up at her curiously.

"Look," Chloe said, trying to get a reassuring tone of her own, "it's still your first week, yeah? You're super fucking cute already, and I'm sure you'll get the hang of it fast. Like, you could totally be a model no questions."

Rachel's eyes brightened almost instantly. "Really?" she asked, a wave of enthusiasm at the compliment seeming to animate her entirely.

Chloe nodded, "Yeah, totally."

Rachel beamed, and Chloe found herself temporarily dazzled.

Rachel cleared her throat after the pause lasted a little too long, and asked, "So, uh, about why you summoned me and everything-"

Fresh panic erupted inside Chloe as she raised up her hands, waving them in front of her, "Nonono, um." Her brain glazed over with thoughtlessness for a few seconds before she could clarify, "I, uh, I don't really feel comfortable with that when you're just like, a girl, you know?

Chloe expected her to say any number of things like: 'well, I am a sex demon' or 'thanks for wasting my time' or 'you, your own self, are just a girl', but instead, there was just brief silence. She hung her head in shame, not wanting to look at Rachel and see the frustration or disappointment incoming.  
And then, "Sure."

And when Chloe looked back up, surprised, she found that Rachel had her pinky finger extended out towards Chloe. "Friends then?" she asked.

Chloe felt like something had stolen her breath away. She wasn't sure whether her blush refused to fade or if it was just coming back stronger, but she knew her face was hot, and that she was unsure if she had ever seen something so cute.

Chloe reached out slowly, and entwined her pinky with Rachel's. "Yeah, friends."  
And Rachel kept beaming until Chloe was forced to grin.

Chloe's phone buzzed in her pocket, and the sudden, invasive sound broke their pinky hooks apart. Chloe drew the phone from her pants, and quickly remembered why it was buzzing.

It was time to banish the demon if she wanted to have her room clean by the time David was off his shift, especially if she wanted it to look like she'd been doing homework.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned, her whole body slumping in disappointment. "I've got to end the spell before my step-douche gets home."

Rachel just looked confused. "Step-douche?"  
Chloe slipped the phone back in her pocket and shrugged. "Step dad. He's a douche. Step douche."

Rachel snorted again at Chloe's awkwardness, but then turned around to look around the room. "Want help cleaning everything up or . . .?"  
Chloe shook her head, "Nah, nah, I got it. Besides, you're a guest."

Chloe scooted forward on the bed until her legs hung off the sides. "But, uh, if you could show me which part lets you guys see into my thoughts so I could destroy it, that would be awesome."

Rachel grinned good-naturedly before pulling up beside Chloe, looking down at the circle. "Totally, sure. Let's see . . . it's . . ." She pointed to a glyph near the edge of the spiral, "that one. Don't even need it to run the spell, it's just convenient."

"Rad," Chloe replied, deadpan.

Then, she turned her head to look at Rachel, casually as she could manage, "Hey, do you mind if I summon you again? Just to like, hang out sometime."

Rachel blinked slowly, and for a second, she thought Rachel was checking her out. Then, she replied, "Sure. I'd like that."

There was a few seconds of comfortable warmth, but before it could break, Rachel tilted off to the side and wrapped Chloe up in a hug. "Thanks, Chloe."  
Chloe had no idea what she was being thanked for, but she answered it with a "Yeah," and tried her best to hug Rachel back.

When the moment was over, Chloe hesitated, and then said, "Guess this is it, then."

Neither of them said anything, and Chloe stood up, crossing the summoning circle and crouching down next to the bit that she planned on destroying.

"See ya, Rachel," she said.

"Bye, bye, Chloe."

Chloe swiped her thumb across her tongue and smeared part of the circle.  
Rachel vanished, as if she had never been there at all.


	2. Envy

**Chapter Summary:** For Rachel's second summoning, Chloe decides to take her out somewhere nice. 'Nice' in Arcadia Bay ends up being a 7-Eleven, a windy hill, and a pothead's bedroom.

* * *

It was summer before Chloe decided to summon Rachel again. Once she had gotten through the first few days of resisting the urge to conjure up her new friend, she quickly found herself swamped in earning that last-minute grade bump that she promised her parents. Thanks to a last-minute D in History and some excellent test scores, she managed to make it out of the year with a rock-solid 2.2 GPA, which meant that she would be admitted to Blackwell the following year.

One more year, that was all it was going to take to get her out of this dead-end town. She'd be eighteen, have her own car (hopefully), and nothing would keep her here a day after graduation.

Except, of course, for cash, which she was expected to provide for things constantly. Take the car out, needs gas? Cash. Need weed? Cash. Need ritual supplies? Cash. Need to keep this flesh prison from overheating with an endless supply of tank tops? Well, actually, her mom usually paid for that, but fucking _cash_.

And that led her to the sort of job she had never expected to have. One of her dad's old friends from college ran a medical supply company that packaged and distributed sterile screws, which led to her spending 24 hours a week at a desk with a face mask and gloves on, neatly packaging screws with tweezers. It was mind-boggling dull work, with the blindingly bright yellow lamp at her desk seeming to pull her into a space devoid of time or thought as the hours wore on. But still, sooner or later, her six hours would be done, somebody would tap her on the shoulder, and she'd get 48 hours at $12.00/hour every two weeks.

 _Cha-ching._

After her first paycheck, she was confident enough that Rachel wouldn't think she was poor if they went out, so she purchased all of the ritual supplies she'd expended to conjure her again. This time, there was nothing she could do about David being home, but there wasn't much sound to the whole thing, and she had a plan.

Chloe cracked a smile once her candles extinguished and the room darkened. She was nervous again, yes, but there was nothing intense to anticipate in this summoning. It was like calling a friend on the phone. The friend just had a really, really hard to remember phone number and lived on the other side of the world.

"Hey you," Rachel said, appearing on Chloe's desk as if she'd been there the whole time. She wasn't shape-shifted as far as Chloe could tell, still just a tiny teenage girl with golden hair, but she was wearing much more casual clothes. She was wearing a black tank top and jean shorts, and her whole face looked warmer, brighter, tanner - she had been enjoying her summer too, from what it looked like. And she was ready for more of it.

"Hey!" Chloe replied, standing up immediately. "Thanks for coming - I was worried I'd get someone else."

Rachel promptly waved away the thought. "Nah, since you said you'd want to summon me again, I've been keeping my eye on your summoning circle." She leaned forward on the desk, her fingers wrapping around the edge to keep her from falling forward. Chloe couldn't help but smile a little at the mischievous look in her eye, "So, what's the plan for today?"

Chloe smirked, then held out her thumb as she started a list, "One, you're going to give me an activity you'd like to try. You know, gals being pals sort of stuff. Two, we're going to get you laid-"

Rachel quirked up an eyebrow, her whole face tilting away to pose a silent question.

"- I mean, it's like your _food_ , right? I'm not going to be rude about summoning you."

Unexpectedly, Rachel suddenly threw her head back and began to absolutely cackle, but Chloe was quick to raise her hands with a 'sshh, sshh, sshh'. Rachel quieted immediately, her eyes opening wide and looking around for whatever was the reason she couldn't laugh out loud.

Chloe pointed downstairs, "Yeah, and that's part number three. I'm going to introduce you to my family so they won't find it weird if they find you in here."

Now Rachel looked puzzled, and Chloe was amazed, having never seen someone convey their feelings quite so well in their expressions. "Well, aren't they going to find it weird when I . . . go downstairs?"

Chloe shook her head with a "No, no, no." But did not immediately elaborate. The continued puzzlement on Rachel's face led her to explain her solution - "You see that window?"

She pointed to the window immediately behind Rachel, and Rachel craned her neck around to get a look at it.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you're going to climb out that, wait for me outside, and I'll be out in a second. I'm not going to introduce you to just-David. That could be a nightmare."

It took Rachel a few seconds, but she slowly lowered her fingers into pointers at Chloe. "And David is . . . step-douche, right?"

"Right," Chloe replied, nodding with approval in much the way teachers did when she answered something correctly. Like there was a hidden, mental note of _Unexpected recall, subject may be purposefully under performing, will investigate further_.

"Step-douche, step-dildo, whatever you call him, he's no good without a woman around, so we're going to steer clear until my mom's off work."

Rachel grimaced at Chloe's joke, but apparently decided not to confront it. Instead, she held out her own hand, and re-started the list. "So, one was an activity I'd like to try, right?"

Chloe nodded, "Yeah, I mean, within reason. Arcadia Bay is a pretty small town, but we'll make do."

Rachel sat with her head down, a fingertip in her mouth while she mulled it over. Chloe was just on the verge of providing some suggestions when Rachel finally looked up and said, "How about skateboarding? That sounds fun."

And Chloe beamed. "I always knew we were meant to be together."

Rachel snorted but, luckily, didn't break into cackles.

* * *

Chloe hadn't even considered the possibility that Rachel might not be able to digest slurpees until she had already paid for them. Thus, she was super relieved when Rachel pointed to one of the gigantic cups, and then to herself.

"For me?"

Chloe almost laughed at the level of surprise on Rachel's face. "Yeah, totally. They're both just sort of a mix of everything, here ya go."

"Perfect," Rachel replied, snatching the cup gracelessly.

They sat just outside of the gas station Trevor said he'd grab them from, as apparently he needed to refuel if they were going skating. Although Arcadia Bay was on the beach, the cool breeze didn't permeate far into the town, and a stifling heat left Chloe's clothes sticking to her. She probably should have put deodorant on her thighs much earlier rather than as she was leaving the house, as it was positively useless now and the skating would chafe, but, well, she dug this grave.

"What's his car look like?" Rachel asked, her head slightly sideways so the slurpee would pool in her cheek before she swallowed it. It was childish and silly-looking, but that only cut a smile into Chloe's face.

"It's, uh, well, it's a van. Grayish I guess. And there's four dudes in it who look like they've watched _Dazed and Confused_ about forty too many times."

That comment only seemed to leave Rachel's eyes wide with confusion, and it took Chloe a second to realize her mistake. She cut off a slurp halfway to exclaim: "Oh, holy shit! - you probably don't get pop culture references, do you?"

Rachel shook her head, but it took her another second to realize she had to stop drinking to actually answer. "Nope, not really. I mean, my workplace plays a lot of classical music, and I've started watching this show called _The New Romantics_? But that's about it."

That struck Chloe as both totally weird, and yet the only thing she could really imagine. "Really? Classical music? Why?"

Rachel lowered the drink down from her face, pivoting to look Chloe dead in the face. "You don't know?" Rachel asked.

"Uhh?" Chloe asked, wondering what she could possibly know.

"It's got the chord of evil," Rachel said, so spookily that Chloe couldn't help but laugh. She had no idea what that meant, but it sure seemed like a silly idea to her.

Rachel looked slightly put off that Chloe was not impressed by her knowledge of musical history.

"Oh hey look, that's them," Chloe said, nodding towards a van that just rolled in. As soon as it was parked, a sliding door on the passenger's side pulled open, and Chloe caught a glimpse of the guys in the back seat. "C'mon, let's go."

As Chloe climbed into the back, she started, "Hey guys, this is my friend-"

And then she saw through the window as Rachel rounded the van, meeting Trevor outside while he was swiping his card. She had thought Rachel was right behind her.  
"Hi! Trevor, right? I'm Rachel, Chloe's friend."

She offered out her hand, and even Chloe was impressed with her dazzling smile. Nobody was even immediately saying 'hey' back to Chloe, which was a little unnerving.

A grin broke quickly on Trevor's face, and he grabbed her hand with enthusiasm. "Yeah, it's Trevor, you can just call me Trev or whatever. Nice to meet you Rachel."

Chloe coughed into her shoulder, "Target spotted," and finally one of the guys seemed to take notice - the one who was always wearing super tight pants, and was a year older along with Justin. Greg? Greg. He was the only one who seemed seriously interested in skating, and he'd been showing Chloe how to pivot on her hands last week.

"Hey Chloe," he said, turning in his second-row seat to wave hi. Everyone else's eyes seemed glued to the driver's side, which Chloe attempted pointedly to ignore.

"Sup," Chloe greeted, leaning forward to offer her hand for a slide and bump. He smirked as they completed the gesture.

He leaned his head out towards Rachel. "Got another newbie to teach or . . .?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, then stuck her thumb out towards the driver's side. "I think she's chosen her teacher already."

Greg just gave a squinty grimace in reply. "Well, whatever. We'll each have our protégés and mine will be the one with hella sweet moves by the time she can ollie."

* * *

This . . . turned out not to be the case. They started out on some flat streets not far from Chloe's house to get Rachel started, though everyone pretty much just milled about, waiting for her to learn. Everything Chloe had been learning was about using hills, so there was nothing much to go over with Greg, so she instead watched Rachel and Trevor.

For the first few minutes, Chloe thought that the way Rachel kept stumbling and losing her balance, leaning on Trevor as she messed up over and over was genuine. However, as soon as Trevor stepped back to let her start going by herself, she picked it up perfectly. She even hopped off after a little bit, stopping the board as she came down with a holler of victory.

Chloe was crouched down next to Greg in the shade, as he was pretty disinterested in travel-skating. While he just seemed a little zoned out, though, Chloe was zeroed in on what was going on between Trevor and Rachel.

When Trevor went to congratulate Rachel on her sudden improvement, Chloe leaned over towards Greg, slapped his shoulder with the back of her hand, and said, "She's playing him like a fiddle."

He just gave a shrug in response. "It's not like that's hard. Nobody wants to be played with harder than Trevor."

Chloe snorted, but didn't have much of a response. It never really occurred to her how much these guys saw her as a guy until she brought Rachel around. Other than her longer hair, though, she had no idea why they would see Rachel that way. Was it how she giggled? Was it how she pulled her hair back and her eyes got squinty whenever someone was trying to show off, how amazed she acted every time Trevor showed her a less-than-impressive trick? Was that it? Was it because she flattered something they wanted to assume about her femininity?

Greg was just looking at his phone at this point, but she figured he was still alert enough that she wouldn't have to hit him again.

"Do you see me as a girl?" Chloe asked. It's exactly the sort of question she would never allow with Trevor or Justin - it would open up the door for them to treat her like one - but there was something comforting about how little Greg seemed to care about the little show between Rachel and Trevor.

Greg looked up from his phone, squinting over at Chloe, the bright light behind her a little too much. After a few seconds, he gave another noncommittal shrug and said, "I mean, I guess? I'm just really here more for like, the skating and the weed and the 80s movies. If you're here, I'm guessing you are, too. These guys are my bros, not my wingmen."

There was an edge of spite to 'wingmen', and Chloe felt a twinge of guilt. She never really considered anybody would be annoyed. Maybe it was just because Rachel's attention was on Trevor instead?

Then, Rachel skated past them, going so slowly that she could fire a smug look down at them, sitting on the sidewalk. "Sup noobs," she said. However, she ran the board into the sidewalk before hopping off, rounding behind Chloe to muss with her hair.

"Trev wants to hit up some hills, you ready?"

Chloe leaned back against Rachel's legs, letting her hands fall to her sides as she let out a very loud groan. "Finally. Yes, please, thank you."

* * *

It was several hours later when the last of the 'extra' bros left Trevor's house to head home for dinner. They all lived pretty close to each other, and with their boards it was a non-issue for everyone to get home except for Chloe (and thus, Rachel). Everyone had pretty quickly gotten over Trevor and Rachel's incessant flirting, and did their best to ignore it while they watched stuff through Netflix. Although they'd been hopping around at first, Rachel had voted for _The New Romantics_ and it'd been left auto-playing since that point.

Chloe and Greg sat on opposite ends of a sofa. Greg was back to spending his time on his phone while Chloe did her best to get interested in the drama. It basically seemed like the amped-up version of _Gilmore Girls_ , which meant that it fit somewhere distinctly under Chloe's minimum action requirement.

Rachel had been whispering into Trevor's ear intermittently for the past hour, so nothing in particular alerted Chloe when she did it again, and an ear-to-ear grin broke out on his face. However, after another second, Rachel stood up from the sofa arm she'd been on, and Trevor got up a few seconds after her.

Chloe and Greg both looked up at them, but didn't ask anything.

"We're . . ." Trevor started, but the long draw made it pretty clear he hadn't thought this far. Then he just shrugged and gave a flat smile. "We're going to go have sex. I couldn't think of anything clever."

"Cool," Chloe said, and Greg shrugged dismissively.

Trevor pointed at Greg with his free hand as Rachel grabbed the other. "G-man, want me to set up _Skyrim_ or something?"  
"Nah, I'm good," Greg replied, pulling one of his legs over the other, really settling into looking at his phone.

"See you in a bit, Chloe," Rachel said, tugging Trevor along. Chloe was pretty sure she'd never seen such a stupid grin on somebody as was on Trevor's face in that instant, and Chloe snorted, giving him a small thumbs-up before disappearing into his room.

Once the door was closed, Greg finally said without looking up from his phone, "I fucking hate this show."  
"Oh thank God," Chloe said, immediately falling from the couch into a crouch so she could launch herself over to the DVDs. A second later, Greg joined her, sorting through them.

As they were checking them out, though, Chloe asked, "If you hate it, why didn't you say anything?"

Greg shrugged, which seemed to be the default way he emoted in response to anything. "Rachel's new, she seems cool, I don't want to be rude."

Chloe guessed that was fair, and returned to the task of finding something to watch. However, it was rapidly becoming apparent that Trevor was not the person in the family who purchased DVDs, as a fair number seemed to be movie adaptations of Nicholas Sparks books, and the rest looked like a pile of 90s and 2000s action movies. Almost everything after the eighties was trash in Chloe's opinion, so this assortment was pretty disappointing to her.

Was this going to just be part of summoning Rachel? She has sex while Chloe watches movies she only has mild interest in? That sounded . . . desperately unappealing.

"Hey," Chloe opened, a few DVDs still in her hand, although mostly just to keep her looking casual. Greg looked over, his brows quirked in question.

"Do you wanna make out or something?

He took a few seconds to mull it over, then (fucking) shrugged (again!).

"Sure," he replied.

* * *

About twenty-five minutes later, they sat on opposite sides of the couch, pretty firmly avoiding looking at each other. Unfortunately, this meant that Chloe's eyes were dead on the door to Trevor's room, but at least Greg had the privacy of the corner between the couch and the mounted TV.

Shame and agitation had Chloe biting her nails, her leg shaking as she placed too much weight on it. She wanted to get up, go to a sink to wash the stale taste from her mouth, but she was dancing on the edge of hurting his feelings more, and she had no desire to do that. She felt like she owed him an apology, but what could she possibly say?

She lowered her head into her hands, running her fingers through her hair. She felt disgusted. She wanted to feel disgusted with him, but it just seemed to rebound back, pouring into her stomach and leaving her nauseated.

"I . . . I'm sorry. I don't know why that happened."

She didn't want to hear it. "Look, don't worry about it, dude."

She heard a long sigh from him, but at this point it only got on her nerves. Her leg shook harder, as if it could create enough white noise to stop her thoughts from bouncing around.

"I . . ." he started again, but she could hear him deflate as he struggled to figure out what it was.

Chloe turned her head enough around to see his profile. "What is it, dude?"

His mouth was cupped in his hands, dragging the skin of his face down so that his eyes were suddenly in high relief. He was the only one of them that didn't still look like a kid to Chloe. That was one of the reasons why she'd even been able to imagine herself . . .

"I think I'm gay," he said.

And although that wasn't a surprise after what just happened, Chloe still winced. It made total sense, sure. But the fact that she'd tried to blow a gay guy was, at least in the moment, pretty high up on her list of mistakes. Had it really taken her for him to realize it? Or was he already sure, and had just gone along with her?

Chloe rubbed her knuckles against her forehead just enough for it to hurt, as if the pain would make her thoughts slow down.

"Fuck, dude," she replied.

After another short pause, he said, "Look, um," and the scraping fabric sound let her know he had turned towards her, so she did the same thing, "don't tell Trevor, please? I don't think he'd care but-"

"Yeah, sure," Chloe quickly replied, just wanting the conversation to be over, to get out. She wished Rachel would hurry up so they could get out of here, so she could maybe be home for dinner. Maybe food would help the nausea subside.

Amazingly, the door of Trevor's room cracked open just a few seconds later, before Greg could intensify the discomfort of the situation any further.

Rachel emerged, shiny and happy, practically bouncing as she made her way over to the living room, where Netflix was paused halfway through an episode. Trevor came a few seconds later; his expression was weakly pleased, he stumbled out, eyes unfocused like he'd taken the biggest hit of his life.

Chloe was immediately unsettled by that look, and she wondered if she should have told him about Rachel ahead of time.

"Hey Chlo! You ready to go?"

Chloe sprang to her feet immediately. Meanwhile, Trevor's eyes slid over to Greg. "Yo, G-man, I'm going to take the girls home. You want me to take you, too?"

Greg looked up slowly, face pinched in thought, but then he waved Trevor off. "Nah, man, I'll just skate home."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"All right, see ya."

* * *

A question had been rolling over and over in Chloe's mind during the quiet drive home, but she waited until they were finally out of the van to bring it up. However, they had only just slid the passenger's side door closed when Chloe could not contain it anymore.

"So like, do you need to eat to live, what's the deal?"

"Nah," Rachel replied, more of a 'not really' than a solid 'no.' "I'm pretty sure I just subsist off my sin or whatever. I really like food, though - is there food?" She gestured at the door.

Chloe paused just before entering the door, turning towards Rachel, surprised and confused. "Sub-sist off your sin? What the fuck does that mean?"

Rachel shrugged as she raised her arms, bunching her hair together to drop it all behind her back. For the first time, Chloe realized that she had a tattoo on the inside of her left wrist: a black spiral as wide as a golf ball.

"Well, for me it's sex, right? I mean, supposedly succubi cover all sorts of lust, but everyone I've met has been all about sexual energy."

It wasn't like this was a total revelation, exactly. The biological how and what of demons hadn't come up much online - there was a lot more about conjuring and controlling them. The attitude online seemed to regard them as hostile, predatory things, secretive and powerful. None of this matched up with Rachel.

"So . . ." Chloe had a lot of questions and no idea if she was about to step on any toes "how much do you need?" She scratched the back of her head, a little embarrassed for not 'feeding' her the first time she summoned her.

That gave Rachel a lot more pause than Chloe thought it would. "Well, I don't really know. I don't think it works that way. I don't have like, a sex stomach . . . but I do have a food stomach," she said, eyeing the door again.

And that was enough to make Chloe chuckle. "All right, all right, I'll feed you, come on."

Chloe reached for the door handle, but Rachel's hand shot and grabbed her wrist before she could open it. Chloe looked up, perplexed, to find Rachel staring right into her eyes with an . . . uncomfortable intensity.

"Uh . . . Rach-el?"

"Chloe." Rachel took a second, wetting her lips while something bounced around in her mind. Then, "You know, I'm not pissed that you just want to hang out. I appreciate having friends, too. And I appreciate that you don't just want to be friends with me as a pretext."

God, Rachel was like a salve. Chloe wanted to doubt it, and if a person had said it, she absolutely would have. But Rachel had nothing to gain soothing her.

"Yeah . . . it's cool," Chloe said with a nod, and she felt Rachel let go of her wrist.

She opened the door before Rachel could pull anything more from her.

Mom and David were sitting down at the couch in front of the television, though they turned to look as the door opened. Rachel crept in cautiously after Chloe, giving a little wave as Joyce's eyes passed on over to her. While her eyes widened in surprise at the unfamiliar girl, David's narrowed, or so Chloe thought. She only caught a glimpse of him before Mom was on her feet.

"Hey," Chloe called, waving a second after Rachel did. "This is Rachel. Is there any dinner?"

Joyce was in the hallway with only the speed the parent of a lonely child could muster for a sudden friend. "Why hi there Rachel. I heard Chloe was out with her skater friends, but I don't think we've met. I'm Joyce, Chloe's mom."

Rachel returned her the dazzling smile that Chloe was quickly recognizing as characteristic. "Hi there Joyce!" Rachel offered out her hand and shook with Joyce - by this point, David was coming to meet them in the hall. "Chloe just introduced me to her other friends today."

"Oh?" Joyce looked surprised to a degree that quickly felt insulting. "Where do you two know each other from? School?"

David's eyes were trained on Rachel so intently Chloe could only describe it as 'studying', a look reserved for disapproving faculty. His voice was even gruffer than usual as he asked, "You're not a Blackwell student, are you Rachel?"

Rachel's eyes went a little wide at the sudden pop quiz, but she at least got the cue to say, "Oh, no, I'm . . ." but that was about as far as she managed.

So Chloe stepped in quickly to save her, "She's just a high school student - we met in my online history class."

"Arcadia Bay Public High School?" David asked, absolutely failing at sounding innocently curious.  
There was a slight delay before Rachel gave a hesitant, "Yep."

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Now, come on David, don't interrogate her."

Even Chloe thought Joyce's standards for 'interrogation' were pretty low - she figured her mother must just be happy that she was bringing home another girl instead of a bunch of smelly hippies in saggy pants (minus Greg).

Joyce looked to her right, as if she had X-ray vision and could see right into the kitchen. "Now, Rachel, have you eaten? We just had spaghetti about thirty minutes ago but I can heat it back up."

"Well, um, I'm a vegetarian."

The entire household turned to stare at her, if for very different reasons.

David just snorted and rolled his eyes;  
Chloe's voice shot up as she asked, "Seriously?", not expecting a demon to care one way or another;  
Joyce seemed surprised, but just said, "Oh? Well, Chloe's just come off a vegetarian phase herself, so I'm sure I can make you something while she has spaghetti."

Surprise quickly colored Rachel's face, much like the sudden blush of embarrassment. "Is that okay? I can eat later if it's a-"

"Oh nonsense, I'll make you something."

Joyce and David quickly scattered - him back to the television and Joyce into the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Chloe leaned close to Rachel and asked, "You're a vegetarian?"  
The high-brow look Rachel gave her in response was half the message, but she also replied, "Well I'm not just going to eat it after seeing the horrors of the chicken industry."

Of course. The demon didn't get pop culture references, but she was familiar with animal rights documentaries. Because why not.

"How about waffles for dinner?!" Joyce called from the kitchen.

Chloe's eyes went wide, but before she could even say anything, Rachel responded with a, "Sounds great!", and Chloe's dreams were fulfilled.

She whispered, "That's my favorite," and Rachel giggled.


	3. Gluttony

**Chapter Summary:** Rachel and Chloe hit up Frank, a witch and Chloe's pot dealer, before heading to a party at Evan's house. The following morning, Joyce puts her foot down on Chloe and Rachel's partying.  
 **Author's Note:** Chloe is raped during this chapter. I've italicized the whole section so it's easy to skip if you want to skip it.

* * *

Chloe continued to summon Rachel throughout the summer, and a predictable pattern quickly formed. Rachel would appear in summer clothes and crawl out of Chloe's window; Chloe would head downstairs as if she were expecting Rachel to show up, making sure to stall Joyce or David if they were to unexpectedly go to leave at that point. After a few minutes (so the timing wouldn't seem perfect and Rachel would look sweaty), Rachel would knock and come in to drink something cool. Then they'd either take the car, get dropped off, or get picked up. Usually, that meant spending time with Trevor's crew, or at least Trevor himself.

(Trevor had taken the news that Rachel was a succubus really well. Chloe still hadn't been very comfortable feeding one of her friends to Rachel, so she hit him up a few days later at his house. His first reply to the news was so stereotypical - "Well, that explains a lot" - that Chloe had to laugh, even if it was a pretty serious talk).

Having Trevor in the know really helped Chloe keep the summonings coming. It quickly started to eat into her wallet, but she was making plenty of money and her expenses weren't that high. More importantly, though, Trevor knew where the parties were. Unlike his other friends, Trevor had an aptitude for making friends significantly up the social ladder at Blackwell (please see: rich friends). Chloe originally thought, just from her experience hanging out with him, that this must be because he always had a lot of weed on him and shared it freely. But no: multiple of these rich kids would show up with weed, and they could rapidly transform any of their houses into gigantic hot boxes. People just hung out with Trevor because he was a cool dude.

And you know what? When Chloe realized he hadn't bragged to any of his friends about banging Rachel, before or after knowing she was a succubus, she had to conclude he was a pretty cool dude. Cooler than she would be, at least.

Chloe and Rachel both quickly realized the power of these parties. Not only did Rachel draw energy from actually having sex with people, but she could draw some energy from people thinking about having sex, people making out, people sneaking away into bedrooms and bathrooms to have sex. You know who does that sort of stuff a lot? Teenagers! Especially if you give them alcohol! And who seems to have a lot of alcohol? _Rich_ teenagers!

* * *

It was the second week back from summer and wouldn't you know it?: there was a party on Friday. Unfortunately, Chloe had been expecting her weed guy to be chilling out in the Blackwell parking lot like he used to last year, but after two weeks she had concluded he'd been ousted. Showing up to a party with something to share was customary, but she'd already depleted what remained of her last purchase.

Chloe took the bus home so Rachel could "pick her up" a little later. There was still about two hours before the party was expected to get going, so Chloe figured it was about time to introduce Rachel to her weed guy.

Thus, about half an hour later, Chloe and Rachel showed up, an empty slurpee still in Rachel's hand and a skateboard in the other, knocking on the door of an RV parked on the beach. A beach chair sat just outside, and about ten feet away from it was a pile of litter and garbage bags.

Loud barking immediately broke out inside the RV. It took a good twenty seconds, but soon enough the door opened, and a tall man in a suspiciously warm jacket for the end of summer stood in the doorway. Recognizing Chloe only seemed to set a scowl on his face which, when combined with his impressive collection of neck tattoos, left him rather intimidating.

He didn't provide a greeting. Instead, he cocked his head towards Rachel. "Who's your friend?" He had the roughest voice of anyone Chloe knew, even worse than David. Seeing a new person, though, left him near vocal fry, as if it would make him extra scary.

Chloe gestured with an open hand. "Rachel, Frank. Frank, Rachel."

Chloe was glad that Rachel had the instinct to wave instead of trying to do one of her oh-so-charming introductions.

Frank managed to sigh like a dog preparing to growl, eyes blank and unimpressed. "Guess you should come in, then." And he pushed the door open a bit more before turning inside.

With a surprised glance over to Rachel, Chloe head inside. She'd never been inside before, and this was a fact she quickly came to appreciate as she was doused in the stink of alcohol and cigarettes. Chloe hated the smell of cigarettes, and was endlessly glad that Trevor and his friends seemed to stick to weed.

A large dog made its way out of the bedroom, barking again now that Chloe and Rachel were inside. He made a beeline for Rachel, who stuck her hand out at his approach. He quieted down as he sniffed her, and a second later, his tail began to wag so hard it swung the back of his body back and forth. Rachel dropped her hand onto his head to pet him.

There was no obvious place to sit down except for the computer chair, so Chloe stood awkwardly just inside the door while Frank headed back into what looked like his bedroom.

"So, Chloe," he said, raising his voice just enough to be heard at the opposite end. "If you brought your succubus with you, I guess that means you're here for for weed? How much?"

Rachel froze, eyes wide with her hand settled on the dog's head. She looked to Chloe for an explanation, but she could really do with one herself.

"Uhh, quarter ounce."

Frank emerged from his bedroom a few seconds later, then stopped in the hallway at what looked like a sink to open up a cabinet.

"How, uh," Chloe patted at her pants nervously, "How'd you know Rachel was a succubus?"

Frank didn't respond, instead coming back into the central room and sitting down at his computer desk. He dropped a manila envelope down on it, as well as two plastic bags and a large pill bottle. He pulled the plastic bags open before finally looking at the pair. "I'm not a fucking dumbass is how. This is going to be sixty, by the way."

Chloe decided not to press his knowledge, instead reaching into her pocket for her wallet to start counting out the cash.

Rachel, on the other hand, was not so satisfied to believe that he wasn't a dumbass. "How do you know about demons?"

"I watched a lot of _Xena_ ," Frank replied immediately, emptying a large portion of the pill bottle into the first baggie before sealing it.

"Is that some sort of documentary?" Rachel asked so innocently that it came off as sweet.

Chloe snickered, and Frank looked up with the same blank-but-clearly-unimpressed look he always shot to make you feel dumb. "Nevermind," he replied, returning to his work.

Chloe dropped the bills on Frank's desk. "Frank's a witch. He's the one I've been buying most of the stuff to summon you from. Some of it's . . . hard to come by."

"Unless," Frank said, stretching the word out. As he sealed the second baggie, he continued, "you've got access to the Black Market."

Rachel's eyes shot over to Chloe, then Frank, back to Chloe, and finally on Frank. Apparently her glances were not enough to get them to explain, so she asked, "Doesn't that just mean buying illegal stuff on the internet, basically? Why is that impressive?"

Chloe shook her head, "Nah, nah, I've heard about this. It's a demiplane right? Like an extraplanar bazaar you have to use magic to access?" Although Chloe only vaguely understood why everything having to do with this stuff had to have '-plane' stuck to it, she was pretty good at repeating exact phrases she'd read.

Frank snorted, shaking his head. "I mean, I guess, but that's a lot fancier sounding than it really is. It's basically just a convention for weird, new-age hippie sort of people. You would be amazed what people will pay for sage."

Rachel fed one of her hands into her back pocket. "And just nobody . . . knows you're a witch?"

Frank shrugged as he put the two clear plastic bags into the manila folder, shook them down to the bottom, and sealed it. "What can I say? Blackwell kids are stupid. But hey, they have money." Frank picked up the bills Chloe left on his desk and counted them real quick. When he was satisfied with them, he picked up the manila folder and handed it to Chloe, who took it as she peeled off her backpack.

Chloe rose after dropping the folder in her bag, lingering awkwardly. Walking away from a deal was always a little weird.

Luckily, Frank aimed to make it easy. After a few seconds, he looked up at her with that same blank look and said, "You can go now."

"Right . . . see ya."

"Bye Frank! Nice to meet you." Rachel waved as Chloe opened up the door. The dog just sat there as they stepped out, apparently not tempted to leave.

That left a bemused smile on his face. "Sure. Nice to meet you, demon girl."

* * *

Trevor picked them up soon afterwards, as it turned out this party was on the other side of town. There was a corner of Arcadia Bay, stretched along the southeast like a stubby tail, where idyllic suburban houses sat behind call-opened gates. They were, as you might imagine, a massive fucking nuisance when it came to having a party, but at least most people had the sense to carpool.

As they arrived somewhat early, Trevor's van ended up sitting right outside while he called up his buddy. Despite being in Blackwell since freshmen year, Chloe was pretty sure she didn't know this 'Evan' kid. Apparently he was a junior, and he frequented many of the same parties, but neither Rachel nor Chloe had hung out with him or slept with him.

"Yo, Evan. Just need you to call the gate."

"All right, see ya in a sec."

Trevor hung up and began to tap his fingers on the steering wheel. Maybe fifteen seconds later, the gate opened, and Trevor pulled inside the complex, making an immediate right.

* * *

A minute later, a tall boy with short brown hair appeared at the door. Maybe boy wasn't quite the correct term - he looked like he was probably in his twenties, and a pleasant amount of stubble covered his jaw. Was this Evan? He definitely didn't look like a junior, and Chloe definitely hadn't seen him before.

"Hey Trev," he greeted.

"Jordan! You're still here?" Trevor stepped just inside the door and wrapped an arm around 'Jordan', giving him the bro-iest hug Chloe had ever seen.

"Yeah, man, I don't go back for a few weeks." Their hug broke, and Trevor stepped inside, taking his shoes off just on the edges of the frame.

Chloe and Rachel followed after him, and Jordan greeted, "Hey, I'm Jordan, Evan's brother."

Chloe expected Rachel to do her bright greeting, but this time she didn't so much as wave, just followed Trevor to a little end table where she took off her shoes. Well then, if Rachel wasn't going to dazzle the older guy, maybe Chloe could pull it off.

She reached up, pulled off her beanie, and gestured at Rachel. "That's Rachel, I'm Chloe. Nice to meet you." She couldn't get the nice open posture that Rachel could, but she could still offer out her hand.

Jordan smirked, but returned the handshake. "Well, nice to meet you too, Chloe. Can I get you something?"

"Beer would be good."

* * *

It took another hour or so for the party to end up in full swing. Rachel and Chloe tried to keep each other in sight most of the time, but tonight Rachel was getting drunk and smoking with a bunch of boys from the swim team, and Chloe couldn't stand dealing with that many people at once. Instead, she hung out with Jordan and Justin most of the time, making fun of the other partygoers and complaining about the quality of weed.

"Who're those bitches, anyway? They look so familiar," Chloe said, gesturing at a cluster of girls in the living room, more sober than everyone else.

"Who, Victoria?" Trevor asked, squinting. "Victoria, Taylor, Courtney, Juliet . . . do you seriously not know them?"

"Shit," Jordan said, "Even I know about those three. They're the kids who literally campaigned to run the Vortex Club last year, right? I remember seeing Courtney's face for like, twenty people's profile pictures for a few weeks. Don't think I've heard of a 'Juliet' though."

"Juliet I think I know. Maybe. I don't really . . . hang out with Vortex Club types, though. Never was very interested in sticking my face that far up someone's figurative ass."

Jordan snorted. "You don't really seem like the bootlicking type. That'll work out better for you once you're out of high school. Kids like that? They'll go to fancy jobs and become soulless automatons like their parents. What else is the Vortex Club even good for?"

"Dude, weren't _you_ in the Vortex Club?" Trevor asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah? And I'm in a law program, losing my soul as we speak. Soon there'll be nothing left and you'll have to take me in the back yard to be shot."

"Well, I guess I don't have anything to worry about," Chloe said, leaning back in her chair and taking a swig of beer. "I'm probably not even gonna graduate at this rate. Nobody wants my soul and I don't think I can sell it for anything good."

Jordan was still looking off towards the Vortex Club girls. He gestured towards them with the top of his beer bottle, "Hmm, well, I'd probably sell my soul for a piece of that. What's left of it, anyway."

Chloe stiffened, trying to mask her discomfort.

Trevor looked grossed out as well, with a, "Eugh. Dude, Victoria? Really? She used to be a dude."

 _Shit. Here we go._ Chloe swallowed, steeling herself to say something.

Jordan beat her to it, backhand slapping Trevor on the shoulder. "Shut the fuck up dude, no one wants to hear your bullshit."

Trevor was taken aback, brow furrowed, upset. He said, "No, dude, I'm being serious, she-"

"No one gives a shit about the transphobic shit that comes out of your mouth, Trevor." Chloe's voice was sharp and venomous. She couldn't keep the reassuring 'bro' talk going if the conversation was going to go this direction.

Now Trevor just look pissed. "What's your fucking problem?" he demanded. Without waiting for an answer, he stood up from the kitchen table and went to join the swim team and Rachel.

"Trevor's a tool," Jordan observed cooly, settling back down and taking a sip of his beer.

Chloe hadn't forgotten Jordan's comment either, but in scale against the confrontation with Trevor, it felt insignificant. Even if Victoria was in poor lighting a whole room away, Chloe could tell that she was hot. Bleached, spiky hair, a sharp face, high-end clothing and jewelry, tights that showed off her shapely legs. Not exactly Chloe's type, but not far off, either. She figured, in three years, she'd probably still find someone like Victoria hot. And he was just saying it, it's not like he was legitimately hitting on Victoria or anything. He'd just spent his night chilling with other guys.

Well . . . that's probably not what it looked like to him, Chloe mused.

"Thanks for . . . being cool," Chloe said.

His head tilted curiously. "Is Victoria actually . . .?" he let his question drift off.

Chloe shrugged. "Hell if I know. It's also not anyone's fucking business. Outing people is just such a dick move."

Jordan was quiet for a while, his stare long and thoughtful. Chloe could only take it for so long before asking, "What?"

He asked, "Are - are you gay, then?"

"I'm -" Chloe cut off, grimacing.

 _It's more complicated than that,_ she wanted to say. _I like girls,_ she considered. But none of it felt quite right. She didn't particularly feel like coming out after dealing with Trevor, either. Especially when she'd come with Rachel.

She sighed. "I'm something like that. Whatever."

He nodded sagely and dropped the topic. "Want something stronger than beer?" he asked.

Chloe rolled her eyes, glad to get away from the serious topics. "Yes please."

"I'll be right back," Jordan said before getting up and leaving her alone.

Chloe glanced around at the rest of the party goers. Victoria was gone from her group, and Trevor had apparently ditched the swimmers to hang out with the Vortex Club. He offered a drink to a small Asian girl with short black hair who shook her head. He offered it to Juliet next and she accepted; he took Victoria's seat and started to drink with them. How could he just blend with everyone so easily? Those girls were so far out of his league (and so far out of his social class) - the best he could offer them was drugs, and it still wasn't going to get him laid.

Chloe didn't belong at these parties and she knew it. These kids were already soulless automatons, putting on their Genuine Person faces for teachers and parents and then getting shitfaced on the weekends. They'd reap the rewards of their social status and the name recognition of Blackwell Academy while being just as directionless and fake as the kids at a public school. Chloe wasn't like them. She had never been like them. And the kids who were like her? The ones showing up on their bikes and skateboards, handing out drugs and flirting with the kids whose parents paid for them to attend Blackwell? They'd be tossed aside by the school, their peers, colleges, even their jobs once their use was through. Chloe just wasn't going to lie to herself and pretend anything else was waiting for her. Especially if she stuck around in this hick ass town after graduation.

She finished her beer before Jordan returned.

"Shots, my good dude," Jordan said, setting four shot glasses down on the table.

"Thank god," Chloe said, pulling the first one to her side of the table. "I'm too fucking sober for this place."

After the first shot, Chloe said, "God it tastes like death. What is this? Is this a thing humans drink?"

Jordan shrugged. "I didn't ask. Another?"

Chloe groaned in disgust, then picked up another glass. "Bottoms up, bitch."

Within half a minute, Chloe felt familiarly light-headed. "Oh, boo. Shit. I think I'm gonna throw up."

Jordan checked his phone, humming a, "Hmm?" Then, as the words registered, he said, "Oh, yeah. Fuck. Try the second floor bathroom. I think someone's fucking in the first floor. Or puking . . . or both."

"God." Chloe said, standing. She swayed more than she expected to, and nearly threw up right there.

"Need help?" he asked.

She shook her head - another bad idea. "No. I got it. I'm fine. Stairs?"

"By the front door."

"Gotcha."

* * *

Somehow, by the time Chloe was done not-puking her guts out and going to the bathroom, she felt even worse. Light-headed, off-balance, dizzy. She should go lie down on a bed or something. She stumbled out of the bathroom and spotted a door just down the hall. As she approached it, though, she overheard low moaning on the other side of the door. She banged her head against the door in frustration that someone was fucking in a perfectly good bedroom for her to pass out in, then continued on down the hall.

The next door she found led to a dark room. She fumbled along the wall until she found a switch, but the light overhead was uncomfortably bright. She could tell that it was a laundry room - apparently rich people have whole rooms set aside for laundry? - but the tile floor looked cool enough that she'd be okay. She flipped the light back off and dropped to her knees, slowly dropping to the floor in the hopes that the room would stop spinning. The cold was nice but the spinning didn't stop - even without anything to really see, she could feel the floor shifting under her. Her arms weren't doing anything but they felt so weak. Was she really this drunk?

She didn't get very far into that question before dozing off.

* * *

 _When she woke up again a little while later, the light was on. She probably wouldn't have noticed except that she was face-up now, staring directly into the light. Her legs felt weak and strangely distant, as if they weren't fully part of her body, but she could tell something was wrong with them. She slipped out of consciousness again for a little while. Even when she felt more going on with her legs, she couldn't quite pull herself back awake. Even when the discomfort became pain._

 _The thing that finally tapped into her awareness was the feeling of another person, heavy and warm. She opened her eyes and looked, but even though there was nothing wrong with her eyes, the scene she saw didn't quite make sense._

 _She took a guess, and said, "Jordan?"_

 _"Sshh," came a soft voice, and then there was a hand on her throat. It was at that point that she realized that her body didn't just feel weak, but she couldn't lift her head or her arms, like they couldn't even tell she was telling them to move._

 _She was more acutely aware of the pain now, and even though the pressure on her throat wasn't blocking her breathing, she felt like she was going to pass out again._

 _"Ra . . . chel."_

 _The hand on her neck squeezed tighter, and now the pressure was on her windpipe too. She wanted to cough, to force her body to breathe right again, but again, the command didn't seem to make it to her body. Soon thereafter, she fell unconscious again._

 _When she woke up again some minutes later, the hand was gone from her throat, but the pain was worse and the discomfort in her throat remained._

 _"Rachel?"_

 _"Huh?"_

 _"Get your hands off of me you-"_

 _Chloe managed to have enough control over her limbs to curl up on her side once Jordan was gone. There were a bunch of loud noises that Chloe couldn't quite make sense of and she couldn't see what was making them anymore. Someone sounded hurt. She was hurt but she was pretty sure she wasn't making the sounds._

 _A minute later, there was someone back in the laundry room with her, and she felt a tapping on her shoulder._

 _"Chloe? Chloe are you okay? Do you think you could stand?"_

 _"Rachel?"_

 _"Yeah, yeah, it's me, baby. I'm going to pick you up, okay?"_

 _Before Chloe could muster a response, she was lifted straight off the ground like she weighed nothing, then slowly tilted back until her feet touched the ground. Rachel took her hands and guided them to the top of the washing machine. Chloe felt like she was going to drop again without Rachel's support, but as soon as Rachel helped her get her clothes back on, Rachel slung her arm over her shoulder and started half-carrying her._

 _Outside of the laundry room, in the hall, there were several people standing around, staring. Jordan was there too, on the floor, his face bruising red and his nose bloody red. He wasn't moving, and there was a hole in the wall above where he had slumped to the floor._

 _"Get out of my way," Rachel demanded menacingly, and the people in the hallway scattered to the sides so they could walk through._

* * *

It was just after 11:00pm and Joyce was supposed to be there. Chloe and Rachel sat on the pavement, not talking, not touching, their skateboards still in Trevor's van. For once, Chloe wasn't fidgeting, even though her skin was covered in goose bumps and Rachel was insistently rubbing her legs. Rachel wore a new cardigan, one of the ones that seemed so popular among the preppy kids at Blackwell. It was far too big for her, but Chloe had no idea which of the art students she'd taken it from. Evan definitely seemed like the artsy type, but he also seemed like the gay type.

Rachel took a particularly loud breath, and Chloe knew she was about to say something.

She interrupted before Rachel got the chance, "Not now, 'kay?"

She was amazed what the past half-hour had done for her sobriety. It had been almost 10:00 when she'd taken shots with Jordan.

At least Rachel managed to get her here, and at least she was managing to sit upright. There was no way they would be able to convince Mom that Chloe wasn't cross-faded, but maybe she wouldn't know just how bad she was. Maybe Chloe wouldn't be in deep shit for the remainder of her mortal life. Maybe this day would end without getting any worse.

There was a few seconds of silence before Rachel seemed to work up the nerve to speak again. "Chloe, I think we need to tell someone about this."

Chloe shook her head, her knuckles pressed into her forehead. The pain kept her aware, kept her distracted of the pain elsewhere. Everything ached. She didn't even know why.

"Can't," she replied.

"But what if he-" Rachel leaned forward on the curb, her face pinched in thought.

"Rachel." Rachel cut off as Chloe interrupted her. "Stop."

And she did. They just sat in silence until Joyce finally arrived, pulling up next to them on the curb. Rachel wrapped Chloe's arm around her shoulder and pulled her up, opening up the back door and setting Chloe inside. Chloe took off her backpack, then fumbled with her seat belt for a few seconds before Rachel took it from her, leaning over her body to fasten it for her.

Joyce said nothing, even when Chloe greeted her, until Rachel opened up the passenger door and sat. "What happened?" She asked, and before she had a response: "I thought you two were staying over."

Rachel shook her head. "No, no. We were but . . ." Rachel looked over her shoulder back at Chloe, who was mostly focused on appreciating the heater inside the car. "Chloe's had a rough night."

"Yeah . . ." Joyce looked back at her daughter for a moment while they were stopped at a stop sign. As she turned into the road, she said, "I see."

Chloe wasn't sure how far into the ride that Rachel spoke again. "Um, Joyce," she said. "Is it all right if I stay with Chloe tonight?"

The reply took a while. "I guess . . . if your parents are all right with it."

"They are - I called them."

"Alright."

Chloe's consciousness was pretty hazy by the time they arrived home, and it wasn't until Rachel was undoing her seat belt that she even realized they were back. Rachel all but lifted Chloe out of the car, setting her down just outside before pulling her away. Joyce got the door for them, and Rachel started to drag Chloe up the stairs. How was Rachel even this coordinated? It's not like she hadn't been drinking and partying alongside everyone else.

It was so relieving to be dropped on her own bed. She wanted to take a shower, drink water, do something to feel refreshed. But it was so much easier to fall asleep.

"I'll be right back - I'm just going to brush my teeth."

Chloe room was silent and dark as soon as Rachel closed the door. Chloe barely felt it when Rachel rolled her onto her side. Any other time, and the warmth of her body behind her, her arms wrapped around Chloe's stomach, would have been comforting, sensuous maybe. But tonight, they just made sleeping bearable.

* * *

It was almost noon by the time Chloe awoke and discovered an empty bed.

She first became aware of the slick feeling over her body - sleeping in her clothes under the covers while the sun had been up, the windows open left a layer of sweat and oil over her skin. At the very least her beanie had been pulled off, though her hair clung to her forehead and the back of her neck, as if the blue tips had all become glued to her skin.

It wouldn't be correct to say that she remembered last night. No, last night lingered as an impression in her mind and body, as physical as the glowing pain behind her eyes. She couldn't quite pull the memories from behind the veil of drunkenness, but the sensations were . . . there.

Chloe had no idea where Rachel was, but when she left her room to cross into her bathroom, she couldn't hear her, just the TV downstairs. That could be Rachel, as both David and Mom worked weekend mornings sometimes. Either way, a shower took first priority.

Chloe had not been prepared for the sight of her own skin. All she felt was a dull ache everywhere, and the harsh pulsing behind her eyes, but her skin looked . . . sallow and translucent. Did it always look like this? Was she always this paper thin person, colorless except for the chipped nail polish and myriad of cuts and scrapes? Could you always see the purple-blue under her skin?

She held her body closely through the shower, and was out much faster than normal.

She paused while drying, finally taking a look at her body in the mirror. Everything had seemed harsh, too-visible in the shower. But here in the mirror, the only detail she really noticed was the purple-red band that stretched across her throat, wide along the left and tapering almost to a point on the right. She reached up, placing her fingers along the edge of it. The sensation was warm, soft, and sensitive. She tried swallowing, and realized she could feel it in her throat, too.

She didn't think she owned anything high-cut enough to cover it, and she definitely didn't have enough concealer for this.

At least it was Saturday.

Chloe quickly figured out that she could actually button her button-up shirts, and that would have to do for the day.

When she made her way downstairs, she quickly peeked down the hallway and found her mother sitting in front of the television. She crept into the kitchen, quietly opened up a cabinet, and pulled out a glass. However, she couldn't avoid making a sound when it came to opening the fridge. By the time she actually managed to have orange juice pouring into her glass, her mother was standing on the other side of the counter that bordered the end of the kitchen.

"Chloe," she said, "you're awake."

Chloe grunted in response, returning the orange juice to the fridge before leaning against the corner of the fridge.

"How are you feeling?"

Chloe sipped her orange juice, but winced at the taste. She should have tried starting with something blander, more pH neutral.

At the very least, she figured there was no point in lying to her mother. "Hung over," she admitted, "so pretty shit." Her voice was rougher, lower - her throat was raw. She tried not to think about that.  
Then, she added, "What are you doing home?"

Her mother's mouth was a flat line, one corner down-turned like the insides of her brow, drawing a pinched slash over her face.

"I called out. Thought I'd spend the day with you and Rachel." She paused, letting her eyes jump away from Chloe for a second before returning to her, "Where is Rachel?"

 _So, Mom hasn't seen her either. Was she banished?_

"She, uh. She took off pretty early."

Joyce nodded, saying nothing for a long moment. Chloe hesitated, wanting to get out of her mother's sight but also aware that she needed to put oatmeal or something in her stomach.

Finally, Joyce let herself talk again, asking, "Can we . . . talk, Chloe?"

There were way too many things wrong with that question. 1) Talking with Mom never ended very well, 2) but she never asked, exactly, it was more of a 'we're doing this now' thing; 3) Chloe most certainly didn't want to talk, 4) but she could see her mother was on edge, and Chloe did not feel rough enough to push her mother away. She just felt raw. And she didn't think she could ignore it.

"Yeah, Mom," Chloe replied, setting her glass on the counter next to the fridge before pulling herself up onto it. "What's up?"

The frown on Joyce's face didn't deplete, but she entered the kitchen, dropping her hands on the counter behind her now, as if she was propping herself up. She way she swallowed before beginning made Chloe nervous, too.

Finally, Joyce sighed and came out with it, "I found that circle you drew on your floor, Chloe, while I was cleaning up."

Chloe became rigid, but said nothing.

Joyce continued, "Now I, I thought it was just a joke, but there was more. Black candles, bags of whatever - instructions on summoning demons, even! I just . . . I can't believe it."

Chloe couldn't believe it, either. She was shocked, silent, except for the lonely, "I," she managed to produce before Joyce interrupted:

"Now, hold on. As if that weren't enough, David brought in your backpack this morning. I thought you were carrying about, I don't know, water? snacks? when you went out. But it's just pot and a first aid kit. Is that really where your summer job has been going? Doing drugs with your friends?"

Chloe wanted to get angry. She wanted to be really, really pissed about how much her privacy had been invaded. She wanted to be furious that her mother wasn't checking in on how she was doing. She wanted to yell and throw a fit, for how she didn't get how pot leveled her out, or how that fucking circle had brought her her best friend in so long-

But, instead, the pain and tightness in her throat just got worse, and she started to cry.

"Mom, I-" she tried to explain.

"Chloe," her mother replied, her voice suddenly firmer. "I wish I could say I don't know where this is all coming from, but I have the terrible feeling I do. I don't think you got into all this witchcraft and partying by your own self."

Chloe didn't realize where her mother was leading until she said it, "This is all because of Rachel, isn't it?"

"What?" Chloe asked, too shocked and off-balance to have any noise. "No, Rachel's just my friend-"

"Your friend," Joyce said in unison, "I know. But I don't think she's a very good influence on you, and I don't like the places you're going with her - or the state you're coming back from them in! I don't know much about her parents, but I think they give a young girl like her far too much freedom. As David and I have with you."

Chloe knew what was coming, and it knocked the air out of her. She barely even registered when her mother was actually saying the words, because they were already resonating inside her.

Joyce said, "We don't want Rachel coming over here anymore, or you spending time with her, at least not for a while. In the mean time, I got rid of all that . . . scary black magic nonsense, and I expect you to clean that creepy thing from your bedroom floor."

Why wasn't Chloe running? Screaming? Slamming her door? Why wasn't she fighting back? Why was she rooted here in place, crying while she let someone shatter what she had built up over these past months?

Finally, Chloe was able to speak, "You have no idea what Rachel has done for me. How. Dare you?"

Joyce shook her head. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I know Rachel is important to you, but I don't think she's good for you."

Finally, finally Chloe was able to yell, but it was so garbled that it didn't sound like a proper yell, but a gurgle: "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW?!" But then, she was sobbing, and it was too hard to vocalize anything.

Chloe didn't understand why, but Joyce nodded. "I understand," she lied.

She stood up from her place at the counter, and said, "I've made an appointment for you to see your old therapist. I know you're having a rough time, Chloe. I just want what's best for you."

And her mother walked away while she cried in the kitchen.


	4. Pride

**Summary:** Chloe deals with the social ramifications of the Vortex Club party, primarily by isolating herself. Unable to summon Rachel herself anymore, she looks to Trevor for outside help.

Chloe makes a deal, and everything begins to change.

 **Author's Note:** If you'd like to see _Succubus_ continue, please let me know via reviews. Because it's closer to an original work than most of my fan fiction, it requires a lot more effort - and quite honestly, I need the engagement to stay engaged with it myself.

I hope you enjoy Chapter 4: "Pride"

* * *

"So, Chloe. What brings you back here?"

"I don't know - my mom made me?"

Dr. Gum's office was comfortable but small, with dim lights and a curtain half-open in the corner of the room. The chair Chloe sat in was always her favorite thing about the room - it had and intricate floral pattern along the back and it was comfy as hell, almost putting her to sleep every time she leaned back into it. Dr. Gum herself sat opposite of her in a wooden chair that looked a hell of a lot less comfy, always leaning slightly forward, with her notepad resting on her crossed legs. She was kind of hot in that over-40s white butch way that Chloe deeply suspected she would become sometime in the next 30 years, and it was that resonance with a possible future self that led to them meeting for the soon after her dad died. It hadn't been on the clinic website, but Chloe had hardly been surprised to find out that Gum specialized in counseling for LGBTQ youth - the only such counselor in Tillamook county.

In any other situation, Chloe would probably enjoy being back here with Gum (her first name was Sydney, but Chloe had never gotten comfortable calling her that), but being dragged back here soiled all that.

"I see. And why did she do that?"

Chloe shrugged her shoulders and blew out slowly, as if to say, 'Hell if I know.'

When Gum only quirked her eyebrows in response, Chloe groaned quietly and said, "Well, she found out I was smoking weed, so that probably has something to do with it. She also didn't like me going to parties . . . or having friends, for that matter. Apparently you're supposed to make me stop fucking up."

"Am I now?" Gum asked, amused. "Smoking, going to parties, having friends - all sounds like pretty normal stuff for folks your age. Why do you think that all adds up to fucking up?"

"I mean, I don't," Chloe replied, taking the bait. When Gum only continued the questioning look, she sighed and sat forward.

"Look, okay. I made this new friend named Rachel a few months ago, and we've been doing a lot of stuff together. Skateboarding, smoking, partying, stuff like that. Mom thinks she got me into all of that and that she's ruining my life or something. Which is bullshit, by the way, because Rachel's been pretty consistently the best part of my life all summer, but she found out that I was doing magic and now she thinks Rachel is, I don't know, evil? or something?"

"You and Rachel have been doing magic?" Gum asked.

"Yeah," Chloe replied, "I mean, yeah, for like, fun. It's not like we're . . . summoning the devil or whatever."

"Yeah," Gum said, writing in her notebook. While she wrote, she asked, "So. Is Rachel your girlfriend?"

In literally any other setting, Chloe would have frozen up being asked that, but it felt like an inevitable question in this context.

"Nope," she said quickly, "we're just friends. She's queer too, though. I think. We haven't exactly spelled that out for each other, but we _have_ both mentioned having sex with girls, so I think we're in the clear, anyhow."

Gum chuckled, "Yeah, that's pretty clear signaling coming from high schoolers. Oh. _Is_ Rachel a high schooler?"

"She's 17," Chloe replied, sidestepping the fact that Rachel very much did not and had never attended school.

"Got it," Gum said, making a quick note before looking back up. "So, your mom is worried about Rachel getting you into drugs and partying. You're still going to Blackwell, correct?"

Chloe nodded, and Gum made another note.

"Tell me if I'm way off the mark," Gum said, "but it sounds like your mom might not want you hanging out with girls she reads as queer. Am I on the money, or . . .?"

"I don't . . . think so?" Chloe said with a shrug. "Like, my mom doesn't have the strongest gaydar. And as far as I can tell, she straight-up forgot me coming out to her as genderqueer and all that since she and David got married. She checks in with me about whether I have a boyfriend all the time. Rachel too - which is just kind of a weird subject."

Gum quirked her head, but before she could ask a question, Chloe clarified, "Um, Rachel doesn't want a boyfriend because she's a big slut. Not like, in a bad way - sluts are great, I'm a big fan of their work - I just don't think a relationship is really up her alley."

Gum snickered at Chloe's slut comments, but otherwise just took a moment to write. Then she said, "Well, okay. That is a fairly common way for parents to subtly check to see if you or your friends might be gay, but it's also just a fairly common thing for parents to do, so we probably don't need to read into it."

She glanced at her notes, then said, "Taking a quick step back, though, you said your mom forgot about you coming out to her?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah. Uh, ever since David moved in - they got married by the way - she's been really hush-hush about stuff with me. She didn't like drugs but she was way more open with me about having sex and drinking and even talked to me about pronouns and maybe changing my name. Then, suddenly, he moves in, and _poof_ , I have to be a good little girl or David will straighten me out." She laughed darkly and said, "Literally straighten me out. He threw away a bunch of PRIDE stuff I used to have in my room."

Gum let the pause hang for a moment, clearly choosing her words carefully. She asked, "When you say 'David will straighten you out', what do you mean?"

Chloe laughed again, nervously. She had looked up regulations on therapy for minors back when she had first started coming, and she knew admitting to ongoing abuse was a surefire way to break through confidentiality limitations. For a brief moment, she considered turning David's behavior into a laundry list, or trying to stuff her step father in the ground the only way she knew how to without a revolver and a shovel. But she was also damn sure she didn't want to deal with any of that - not right now, and probably not ever.

"Oh, you know," Chloe said with a noncommittal shrug, "He's just kind of an asshole. Likes to act like a dad."

Gum hesitated, then nodded, writing a little before flipping her notepad to the next page. She took a deep breath, then asked, "So. While we're already here, why don't you tell me what else is going on with you lately?"

Chloe blew out slowly again, deflating in her seat. "Well," she started, "school blows and I haven't seen my best friend in weeks, so things mostly suck all around right now."

"The school year just started, right?" Gum asked.

"Yep. And it's off to a spectacularly shitty start."

"How so?"

More laughing Chloe. Then, "Well, let's see. My teachers all already either know me or have heard of me and they're just full-on expecting me to be a fuck up, for starters. The campus just switched from a 4-year school to a seniors-only 2-year thing, neatly getting rid of basically everyone I was even kind of friends with younger or older than me. Samantha and Mikey are too young to attend and they're in the public school now, and Steph got into a four-year out of state. Oh, and the only 'friends' I have left have basically stopped talking to me since the start of the year. Except Rachel, who I'm not allowed to see anymore."

Gum's face pinched. "Your friends your age have stopped talking to you? Why?"

Chloe groaned in disgust. "Because . . . Rachel kind of beat up a friend of theirs at a party. Threw him into a wall."

Gum stared with wide eyes for a brief second before she dropped her face back into a neutral. "Why?" she asked.

"Because, uh . . ." Chloe took a slow breath, a bitter taste in her mouth. It took some effort to get the words to come out, and she was uncomfortably aware of the sound of her own voice as she said them: "Well. He raped me, I think. I'm pretty sure. I was . . . not sober at the time."

It was clear Gum was holding something back. Finally, she said simply, "That seems like a pretty good reason to beat someone up."

"Right?!" Chloe replied, relieved at the opportunity to pivot the conversation away from her victimization. "Like that seemed like a pretty solidly badass move to me, but literally everyone else seems to think that . . . uh. I don't. Actually . . . know what they think."

Gum's face was pulled into a strained grimace. "That's a shame," she said.

"It is," Chloe agreed.

* * *

Chloe sat down in the middle stall of the girls' bathroom one day the following week, considering her options and dreading virtually every outcome. She had gotten this idea from a book she read in middle school called _Speak_ , but actually going through with it made her nervous. What was the worst possible outcome? That someone drew over it? That the school painted over it? That people wrote snide remarks? That it just sat there, utterly ignored, like the carvings in the plastic stall walls?

Finally, she sighed, pulled the sharpie out of her pocket, and crouched just behind the stall door.

 **Jordan Harris is a rapist.**

What would a good outcome even be for doing this? Did she really think the stall was just going to get covered in messages from girls he'd assaulted? That there would be any repercussions? What sort of repercussions did she even want?

Chloe couldn't work up the nerve to sit in that stall again for weeks. It wasn't until Thanksgiving break had passed that she forgot about it and used the stall by accident.

None of her fears were actualized, and neither was her hope. There were only two messages.

 **Who?**

and

 **I know** **. Are you okay? -T**

The one thing Chloe hadn't expected was minimal engagement. But still, the second message . . . someone else at least knew.

Chloe pulled out her sharpie.

 **I'll be OK. I just wanted to warn people. -C**

As the weeks until winter break quickly drew to a close, Chloe and T kept writing back and forth. No one obstructed them, and no one commented, either, like the two of them were whispering where no one else could hear at all.

 **I'm glad you're OK.  
He raped me the summer before my freshmen year when I was drunk.  
The police didn't do anything and his brother didn't believe me.  
Does he still go to VC parties? -T**

 **He was just here on a holiday, but it was a VC party.  
I'm sorry about what happened to you, and fuck the cops. -C**

 **I just hope we can warn some other people -T**

 **Yeah.  
And stop having VC parties at his house! -C**

And it continued like that, until they had nothing left to say, and winter came. While they were gone, it was all scrubbed off as graffiti.

But let's take a few steps back. It was the Thursday before school let out for winter break, and Chloe got her first text from Trevor in months.

 **Trevor:** heya chloe. i know everything was super complicated with rachel and she was some kind of monster from another dimension or something, but i was wondering why i havent seen her around recently.

At first, Chloe was set on not responding to this text - or any other text Trevor sent her - but the longer she thought about it, the more valuable she realized it would be to have Trevor on her side.

 **Chloe:** You havent seen her around b/c my Mom found my summoning circle and had me destroy it.  
I cant risk drawing another one, or afford it, really.  
If youd really like to see rachel again tho, I can give you the instructions I used to summon her

 **Trevor:** whoah, you like srsly used magic? like youre a witch?

 **Chloe:** No I'm a summoner

 **Trevor:** whats the difference

 **Chloe:** nvm.  
 **Chloe:** Look, I'll send you the info. If you can buy the supplies and draw the summoning circle somewhere safe, I can summon Rachel to hang out again.  
 **Chloe:** my mom banned her from the house, tho

 **Trevor:** b/c shes a demon?

 **Chloe:** b/c she's a 'bad influence'

 **Trevor:** oh lol  
 **Trevor:** but ok  
 **Trevor:** ill do it

 **Chloe:** what's your e-mail? I'll send you some PDFs (with some minor edits - there's a rune you really dont want in the circle unless you want Rachel showing up in highly specific fetish gear)

 **Trevor:** why wouldnt i want that?

 **Chloe:** it lets demons from hell read your mind

 **Trevor:** oh ok lol

* * *

Trevor and Chloe met up on the first Monday of winter break, having used most of their weekend getting ready (or getting high, in Chloe's case, which was effectively the same thing). He lived alone in a room with two beds, leaving Chloe deeply suspicious he also had a brother away at college. Laundry was piled out of the laundry basket and onto the floor, but he had clearly swept it all together before she came over. Similarly, all of the cords for his Xbox360 were wrapped up on themselves. Garbage and dishes alike sat all over the bed that was actually made; Chloe wanted to be grossed out, but really the only thing that kept her room from falling into the same look was how little she went out these days and how claustrophobic her room became if she didn't clean up the floor.

"Where're your folks?"

"My folks?" Trevor asked, snickering. He crossed the room straight to his laundry basket.

"Your parents, dumbass."

"Like, I know what 'folks' means, I just . . . never mind. They're out of town."

Trevor pulled the laundry basket aside and did his best to stack laundry on top of it - Chloe finally realized why when she saw a square a little more than a foot across had been cut into the carpet. He peeled that away as well, revealing the Sharpie'd conjuration circle underneath. She was impressed to find the symbols were done perfectly, and the circle as a whole was probably cleaner than hers had been after the first use. With five days of prep, he'd pulled off what it had taken her three months to set up - admittedly, with some guidance.

"So, I think I got everything," Trevor said, headed for the bottom drawer of his dresser. "Five black candles, chalk, all the herbs you asked for, measuring tape, ashes of a cremated person - also, by the way, I don't feel super comfortable using any more of my grandma's ashes, so if we could not do that in the future that'd be great - and, uh, lube. Is that seriously part of the ritual?"

"What?" Chloe asked, confused. Then, remembering the list she sent him, "Oh, fuck, yeah, no, the lube was practical."

"Oh, huh." Trevor laid everything out in baggies beside the ritual circle, then tossed the lube over to Chloe, who caught it and looked it over. 'Organic' proclaimed one label. 'All-natural' said another.

"Wait, so, did you fuck Rachel?" Trevor asked. She expected him to leer, but he just pulled out a set of instructions and started working while she sat down on his bed.

Chloe shrugged, but replied, "I mean, no. I wasn't trying to summon her specifically - at least, not at first. I was just trying to get laid. Didn't think I'd make a friend out of it."

"So, what. You'd summon her and she'd . . . have sex with other people?"

Chloe shrugged again. "I guess." She got what he was prodding at, but she didn't want to give him the benefit of a reaction. _Yeah, I went and made friends with a sex demon I don't want to fuck. Expensive friendship._

"Huh," Trevor replied. Whatever bullshit he wanted to say, the fact that he was going through with this just proved that he wasn't really any different - sure, he'd had sex with Rachel the one time, but going through this effort wouldn't get him laid. Just being around Rachel felt . . . special. Maybe it was the emotion-reading, maybe it was something else. But they'd both come this far just to keep seeing her.

Several minutes passed while Chloe entertained herself on her phone, periodically checking on on Trevor to make sure he didn't fuck it up. The plan had been for her to supervise him, but quite honestly, he was managing just fine on his own with the right information.

"So, um. I'm sorry about that stuff I said about Victoria at that party however long ago. I didn't really know about any of this gender stuff or anything and just . . . sorry." It took Trevor a little bit after he started talking to look up, finding Chloe staring over her phone with her face glazed, unreadable.

Quite honestly, Chloe had forgotten everything about Victoria from that night other than that specific interaction. Even the mention of her name brought back the rest in an instant, and fresh anger bubbled just underneath the surface. How thankful she'd felt for Jordan's intervention on Trevor's attempt at guy-talk disgusted her to no end.

Trevor's transphobia wasn't really what she wanted an apology for, nor was she really the one who needed that apology. But some part of her felt a glimmer of hope beneath the anger that Trevor and the other guys would ever be a place for a guy like her.

When Chloe didn't respond, Trevor continued, "I talked to Courtney - she's in the Vortex Club-"

"I know who Courtney is."

"Right, well. I asked her about Victoria and she explained 'transgender' to me some, and then I looked up stuff online. I was an asshole, I guess."

The seconds ticked by while Chloe weighed how angry she should be versus how much she should praise him. Both felt gross in the situation, but the longer it was quiet, the more uncomfortable it was getting for both of them.

She said, "Whatever, dude." Then, "Like, I'm glad you're learning stuff, I just don't really want to talk about this."

"Okay."

They stayed quiet until the circle was all set up.

"Okay, now what?" he asked.

"Now you back away and let me summon her," Chloe said, raising the scrap of paper she'd drawn the spiral symbol on.

"Good deal, dude," he said, and they switched places. The summoning circle was a little small, and Chloe had to crouch in it instead of sitting cross-legged to fit. She also didn't like lighting the candles directly adjacent to carpet, but they'd be extinguished quickly.

She pricked her finger, setting the needle on top of her needle cast while she let the drop of blood soak into the paper. Then she grabbed her lighter and lit the paper - a lot less cautiously than she had the first time, just dropping the paper onto the circle. It would be extinguished with the candles, after all.

And the candles did extinguish, right along with the light on in his room, leaving the thin bands of light coming through the window blinds as the only thing casting the room in a dull gray.

"How do you do?"

The sudden addition of a man's voice made them both jump - in Trevor's case, right off his bed. Laying on his side, dressed in nothing but scraps of leather and his dazzling smile, lay a ridiculously hot guy with brown hair and a single rose in his hand.

Once she wasn't actively scared for her life, Chloe half-yelled, "You - you're not Rachel!"

"Uh, no," he replied glancing around the room awkwardly before settling back on the two teenagers in front of him. "Should I be?"

"Yes!" Chloe said, rising from the circle and stepping over the candles. "Or, at least a succubus? This was very specifically a succubus circle."

"Yeah," he replied. When they continued to look at him dumbly, he said, "I'm a succubus."

Trevor waved his hand side to side, indicating the man's body, "But you're, you're a dude."

The man refused to give up his wonderful smile, but his eyes betrayed his increasing discomfort. "Like . . . yeah?"

"So . . ." Chloe began, quickly trailing off, unsure how to clarify. What had gone wrong?

Finally, the man snapped his fingers and said, "Oh! Oh I see what's going on here. You probably thought all succubi are women, and you've only summoned the new girl before, so this - okay. Okay." He nodded to himself, clearly satisfied with the explanation that only he understood.

"So . . . being a succubus doesn't mean that you're a girl?" The gears were clearly turning in Trevor's head. Finally, he said, "Are you trans?"

Chloe facepalmed as hard as she could, but the man ignored her. He said, "Um, no." When all he got was stares back, he continued, "Sorry, I'm just really not used to this many questions as soon as I'm summoned. Succubus doesn't mean woman - um, it comes from the latin _succubare_ , or 'to lie beneath.'"

Still blank faces.

He clarified, "I'm a bottom? Like that's what you ordered . . . if you don't like how I look I could shapeshift into-"

"No, like, you look great, it's just," Chloe cut him off. She looked over to Trevor for help.

Trevor said, "Wait, you can shapeshift?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Sorry, we were just expecting our friend."

"Oh, okay," the man replied. They sat in awkward silence for a few seconds before he asked, "Do you two still want to have sex or should I . . . go?"

"You should -" Chloe started, turning to look at Trevor, who just turned to look at her. They were both blushing, awkward smiles impossible to hold back. She scratched the back of her head with a quiet, "Um . . ."

Trevor's awkward grinning became too much, until he started laughing uncomfortable. "I . . . won't tell anyone if you don't?"

Chloe took about three seconds to think about it, then said, "Uh, yeah, deal," and offered out her fist, which he promptly bumped. She exhaled slowly, cracking her knuckles. "But if I'm going to top, I'm going to need a harness or-"

With a wave of his hand, the succubus conjured a strap-on harness and a small row of toys to choose from.

"O-oh my god."

* * *

An hour and a half later, Trevor was asleep on his bedroom floor while Chloe stepped out of the shower. She was doing her absolute best not to consider how intensely gratifying and affirming the sex she'd just had was and how much hotter she'd looked to herself as she looked in the mirror. The feeling of control was already something she'd known she liked, but this had been something else. She felt strong. She felt big. And she was still riding the high from that.

As such, she was a little startled when she re-entered Trevor's room and found the succubus under the covers, Trevor's laptop in front of him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"No, you're good dude - I just didn't think you'd still be here."

"Oh, I was just watching some TV . . . should I go?"

"No, no, you're cool." She fiddled with her wet hair a bit, then pointed at the bed. "You mind if I get in there too? It's cold."

"Sure thing," he said, scooting over as she sat on the bed, digging her feet down so they, at least, could be warm.

"Thanks."

A smile crept up on his face, but at least he wasn't keeping one plastered on all the time like he had been when they summoned him.

"So . . ." he started, "Have you always known you were trans or was that . . . new for you?"

 _Oh god. He's got the empathic reading._

She swallowed nervously and laughed. "Haha . . . um. Shit, I dunno. I kind of came out as genderqueer a while ago but it didn't go great. I've mostly been keeping it under wraps but this was in fact a little new. In a few ways."

He seemed pretty smug, but didn't say anything more, just nodded knowingly.

After a minute or so passed, Chloe asked, "Hey, wait. What's even your name?"

"Patraavex, but you can just call me Vex. You're Chloe, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you know? Did Rachel mention me."

"Nah - I mean, yeah, but not by name. This little dude said it a few times while we were having sex, though," he said, nodding towards Trevor.

Chloe had absolutely no idea what TV show Vex was watching, but it was easier to look at that than his face.

Finally, Chloe noticed something - a spiral tattoo on the inside of Vex's wrist, just like the one Rachel had.

"Oh, hey," she said, pointing it out, "Rachel's got that too. What's that about?"

"Oh, this?" Vex said, holding his arm up so it was easier to look at. "Yeah, that's my brand. Rachels' got the same one because we've got the same master. It's just sort of there when we form – and makes it easy to tell who we are even if we shapeshift."

"Your . . . Master?"

Vex nodded. "Yeah. Like, basically our manager?"

"Oh, huh. I never really thought about that, but I guess hell's got some sort of bureaucracy running it, right? Who's your manager, or master or whatever?"

"I mean, it's a little more complicated than that because we're all effectively immortal, but yeah. And uh, I know he's got a human name? but I can't really remember it right now. But, anyway, he's a contract demon named Muninn. I call him Munny. You probably shouldn't do that."

"Huh," Chloe replied lamely.

They sat and watched TV for a few minutes together before Chloe had her next question. "So, how is Rachel doing?

"Oh, I don't really know," Vex replied, nonchalant, not taking his eyes off the TV. Chloe just kept her eyes on him until he picked up that that wasn't a good enough answer, and continued, "I mean, I hear she got bound to a sorcerer for some long-term gig, first contract work. So I haven't really seen her since then."

"Oh," Chloe replied.

Then she said, "Wait, how long is long-term?"

Vex shrugged, but answered anyway, "Usually until the sorcerer dies. He looked kinda young so maybe . . . 100 years? Wait, no. What's a typical human lifespan anymore?"

"Like . . . 70? Maybe?"

"Oh, huh. Okay, so like half that."

Chloe blinked, her heart sinking. "Wait, seriously? Like 50 years?"

"Give or take."

Perhaps sensing her unease, Vex hit 'pause' on the show before too long, pushing the laptop off of his lap so he could turn on his side and look at Chloe. Meanwhile, she was too busy staring into infinity as she realized she would never see Rachel again. It usually took her a few hours for the real agony of abandonment to set in, but she was fast-tracking the process today.

"I – is there any way out of that? Like, the contract or binding or whatever."

"Um . . ." Vex paused and pursed his lips, thinking. "Well, you can always kill the sorcerer and that fulfills the contract, usually. Actually getting out of one, though? You'd need Muninn to handle something like that, someone who actually signed the contract."

That wasn't much better. Murder wasn't exactly an option and dealing with a contract demon sounded . . . complicated. She doubted she'd be able to have a lawyer present, either. Complicated, but . . . maybe not impossible.

"Um . . . so like. If someone wanted to get in contact with this Muninn, would it be some kind of summoning ritual?"

Vex shook his head and laughed. "Nah, dude. Do you have a sharpie or something?"

"Uhh, yeah, here," she said, reaching under the bed for her pants and grabbing her sharpie, then handing it to him.

He pulled off the cap and pulled her hand towards his lap. She blinked, a little freaked out before she realized he just wanted his leg as a surface to keep her hand flat. Then, he quickly scrawled out –

"- a phone number?" she asked. "That's it?"

"Yep. Give him a call whenever – say I vouched for you. Then just set up a meeting."

"It's that easy?"

"Yep," Vex replied with a smirk.

"Wild . . ."

* * *

It took Chloe a little while to work up the nerve to call Muninn – about a day, actually – and as she hit **Send** , she realized she had no clue what she was going to say, other than what she wanted – a meeting. Hopefully that would be enough.

The other end clicked, and she heard a perfectly human-sounding, "Hello?"

 _Chloe:_ "Oh, hello. Is this Muninn speaking?"

 _Muninn:_ "Ah, Chloe. I thought I might be hearing from you soon. What can I do for you?"

 _Chloe_ : "Well, the thing is, one of your succubi – Rachel – is kind of a friend of mine, and I heard she got bound to this sorcerer guy a while ago, and I was wondering if there was any way we could potentially negotiate . . . that not being the case."

She heard a sigh from the other side of the phone.

 _Muninn:_ "I . . . see. Well. We can certainly set up a meeting to discuss a contract, if you would like."

 _Chloe:_ "Uh, yeah, that sounds great. When?"

 _Muninn:_ "The winter solstice, say, 4:30pm?"

 _Chloe_ : "That's . . . okay. Sure, where?"

 _Muninn:_ "Meet me at the Lighthouse. The one just outside of Arcadia Bay – I'm sure you know the one."

 _Chloe_ : "Yeah . . . I do. Okay."

 _Muninn:_ "I'll see you then."

 _Chloe:_ "Right. Bye."

 _Muninn_ : "Good-bye."

And the call ended.

* * *

Chloe had to admit, she was not adequately prepared for this meeting and it was making her just a little bit anxious.

It was 4:20 on the winter solstice and she was, for once, _not_ blazing it no matter how much that might calm her down, just in case Muninn turned out to have a problem with drugs or something. The trail up to the light house was worn and familiar from the years she'd spent coming here, although those had mostly been back when she was a kid. Why he would want to meet her here was beyond her imagination, but at least it wasn't an issue to get a bus ride down to the beach in the first place. She couldn't just tell her mom or David she was going to make a deal with the devil and not expect them to have some words of wisdom to share, after all.

When she first saw him at the top of the hill, she was convinced he was just some random guy who was going to make having this meeting difficult. He stood in front of the bench near the edge of the cliff, smoking a cigarette as he watched the sun slowly dip lower and lower towards the horizon. It was only when he turned to look at her, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out slowly, that she realized that he really wasn't human.

Muninn's skin was stark red and dry in a way human skin just wasn't. Three horns poked out from underneath his black hair, and a column of spines trailed down his nose like exposed bone. He dressed and sounded like a man, maybe, but for the first time in dealing with demons, Chloe realized they wouldn't all be like succubi.

Once she was a little closer, he dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his shoe. "Chloe Price, I presume?"

"You'd be right. You're Muninn?"

"Please, call me Harry."

Now that she was close, she could see that the same material that made the spines and horns made up his brow, and his skin was flecked with the stuff all over. Worse, his fingers were more claws than anything, which might be hot under completely different circumstances, but in this case just made her keenly aware she'd agreed to meet him in an out-of-the-way location next to the ocean without telling anyone where she would be.

"Right. Harry. Well, um. I'm here to see what can be done to end Rachel's binding so she can go back to being, like, a regular succubus."

"Yes, I heard," he said. His posture was open and comfortable, like he was giving a practiced presentation. This, after all, was just his job, no matter how terrifying it was for Chloe.

"So is that . . . something you can do?" Chloe resisted the urge to scratch her head. She wanted to sound confident but she didn't even know what to sound confident about, exactly.

"Well," he began, "I'm afraid I can't renege on a deal; when I accepted the terms of Rachel's binding, the terms were set and cannot be amended until the conditions stipulated are met. I'm not at liberty to divulge exactly what those conditions are, but I'm sure Vex told you that a summoner's death is a common condition for the release of my succubi."

Chloe nodded. She didn't like where this was going – 'my hands are tied'-type bullshit she was used to getting from school administration.

"But . . . okay, I get that you can't tell me about her contract, specifically, but there's got to be something that can be done, right? She's not just enslaved to some guy for the next 50 years or whatever and that's that?"

Harry gave a smile – a smile that would just be unpleasantly fake if it weren't for how scabbed his lips looked, which gave his face the impression that it could split open if it stayed taut.

"I'm afraid that is essentially it, as long as I am her master."

She hadn't expected him to so calmly agree that the conditions Rachel was under right now constituted slavery – she expected a human response. She bit the inside of her mouth, the pain a reminder that what she was dealing with was evil. But that reminder only strengthened her resolve.

"Please," she said. "There has to be something, some way to free her. You're a contract demon, there's got to be . . . like . . . loop holes and shit."

His uncomfortable smile only widened, which she really didn't like.

"I suppose you could say that. In fact, Rachel's binding is established via a contract with me, her master. If she had another master, however – if someone purchased her for even longer than a lifetime – well, she'd have little reason to follow that contract unless she wanted to."

"I – I see," Chloe replied, not getting it.

Then, "Wait. Me? Like . . . could I become Rachel's master?"

"Certainly," Harry replied, far too quickly. She could already tell this is what he had in mind from the start, though she missed how far back the 'start' of this really was. "All it would take is a contract between us, and she could be yours."

That sent a shiver down Chloe's spine – dread, but also a sick pleasure. Rachel could be hers. Rachel could _stay_ hers.

She swallowed, then swallowed again, struggling to feel okay to talk.

"What would that cost me? A deal like that?"

"Only your soul, my dear."

 _Ah._ She had been afraid of that.

"What . . . what does that mean, exactly? What do I stand to lose? Do I just like, die in exchange?"

Harry chuckled. "No, no, it's nothing like that." He caught her with his stare, and the smile returned, so wide now that he must be in pain, that she could see his teeth, rows of them like a shark, and she was afraid.

He said, "You will not be judged when you die. You would be signing away any chance of ever seeing an afterlife other than one in my employ. No witch or sorcerer will ever be able to bring you back from the dead, either; there will be no soul to call out to, after all. You will be truly dead and gone – once your time is up, that is. No telling how long that might be."

"Ha! . . . um. Shit. Okay."

After a moment of quiet, Harry said, "Of course, you can take as much time as you'd like to think on it, but if-"

"No, no, that's okay," she cut him off. Finally, it looked like the smile reached his eyes, which at this point only added to the creep factor. "I'm not planning on dying anytime soon, and I don't exactly think I've earned myself a ticket into heaven, so . . . I'll do it. I'll become Rachel's master, then work for you when all is said and done."

He chuckled again. "It's not quite that simple, I'm afraid," he said, and her heart sank.

 _Of course there's a catch. Damn foot-in-the-door tactics_.

He continued, "You cannot be a demon's master as you are – human, that is. In order for your body and mind to sustain that sort of bond, you will have to become a demon – or part demon, if you'd prefer, it matters little."

"Become . . . a demon?" She had no idea how to gauge whether that was a cool bonus or a terrible price, considering the demons she'd met. "What would that mean?"

He shook his head and said, "I'm afraid I can't so easily predict what about you will change. Your body will change to suit your soul – your sins and virtues made manifest and immortal. You may find that you like the changes. You may not. I suppose that depends on how well you really know yourself."

"I . . . see."

Seconds ticked by in silence while Chloe tried to weigh it. Who was she, really? What were her sins? What were her virtues? Did she have any? Would she be able to go to school, have a normal life if she had a tail or armored skin? Or might she become something like Rachel – like a human, only better, with whatever body suited her at the time?

"Well?" Harry finally asked, "Will you trade your soul in exchange for your friend's freedom? Will you-"

"Yeah. Let's do it."

Again, she interrupted him, but he seemed unphased.

With a flourish, a scroll appeared in his hand (a little jarring of a sight considering his business suit and otherwise totally contemporary appearance), which he offered to her. She looked it over and found the terms simple – precisely what they'd discussed. Her name was already on it, alongside an empty space.

She looked up, "Do you have something to sign with?"

He nodded. "Hold out your hand and turn your palm face-up."

She did, and in one swift move he reached for her and made a cut across her thumb. It stung like hell, but the bleeding wasn't that bad.

She didn't need to be told what the next step was – she pressed her thumb to the empty space for a few seconds, and when she pulled it away, it left a bloody smear with the faintest impression of a finger print.

"A pleasure doing business with you," he said, offering out his clawed hand.

Unwilling to be intimidated at this point, Chloe reached with her bloody hand and shook his.

And that's when she felt it. Her heart racing, her skin crawling, the hair on her neck standing on end.

Not just the hair on her neck.

She could feel the blood in her veins and it felt electric: wild and powerful, and the sensation was so much and the sound of her own heartbeat so loud that for a second, she thought she would faint.

She didn't even notice Harry was gone as she saw the first sparks of electricity bounce between her fingers.


End file.
